


Prep

by melmac



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 68,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1528556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melmac/pseuds/melmac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark Kent's family is the owner of a chain of healthfood stores and a major expansion forces them to enroll Clark into Excelsior Prep. A new teacher, Lex Luthor, who denounced his former life, must learn not to be tempted by his new student</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry of course for long delay. Life, traveling, etc, I'm sure you know how it goes:) Theres another chapter I'm editing, and things will move quickly from here. So if you're still reading, thank you, and as always, comments are greatly appreciated. I'm very thankful for every single one i've received so far:)

 

" _...Ok...here I am in my really small, sorry cozy dorm room. As you can see, they have provided us with the finest in prison-grade mattresses. I'll demonstrate by bouncing on the bed a little...did you get that? It didn't even move. But, good for the back right? Ok...over here we have your standard desk, and yes Mom I'll straighten it up later, I just got here, and I'm still organizing—stop frowning!. Ok, over there is a bed identical to mine. It belongs to my roommate, who I met briefly when he ran in here with his mother who was wearing at least sixty dead animals on her back, but they had to meet his father for lunch or something, anyway, they barely looked in my direction. Don't worry; I'm sure he's very friendly. Oh! My view. If you look out the window and straight across you can see the main school building. I'll be taking all my Science and English classes there. Oh and if I lean out the window, I can almost show you the faculty housing. Some teachers actually live here even though they don't have to. Well...I guess that's it for now. I have orientation in the morning. This is really strange for all of us I know, and I promise you I will do my best to enjoy myself, and not get into any trouble. I'll call you this weekend like I promised. I know you'd like me to call everyday, and I'd love that too, but we promised I would try to be more independent and learn to be on my own...so I'm going to try that. Ok...I'd better clean up this mess before my roommate gets back. I love you both, and don't worry, please, I'm fine."_

Clark ended his message with the biggest, brightest smile he could manage—one he hoped his always-perceptive mother didn't see right through. He shut the camera off and flopped back on the bed, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Who ever heard of a sixteen year old crying because he missed his parents?

 

* * *

 

Clark heard voices, speaking in excited hushed tones. Then he heard giggling, and feet running across the wooden floor. He shut his eyes tighter, trying to dislodge the dream, but it became more vivid, his bed even rattled in response, jostling his body and causing the wooden frame of his bed to groan. For a moment he thought maybe he was in the throes of a possession, but could an alien be possessed? Just when he was going to try and recall that movie he saw the other night about a girl and a demon, his shoulder was shoved hard, and the laughter got even louder. Clark realized it was obviously time to open his eyes.

 He turned towards the laughter, opening his eyes to see a boy with sandy brown hair and squinting gray eyes grinning at him mischievously.

"Man, I've never seen anyone sleep so hard. I thought you might be dead or something. Though there is the urban legend that if your roommate dies you gets an automatic 4.0, so I wouldn't have complained too much. I'm Braden, some jerks call me Bradey, but I never answer to it. You're Clark Kent right? Family owns Natural Earth Food stores?"

Clark was still trying to come out of his haze and realize where he was and the identity of the person talking to him. Braden, right, Prescott, otherwise known as the roommate he met briefly earlier. He sat up on his bed, wondering when he fell asleep exactly, racking his brain trying to remember what he could of the short biography about his roommate that had been sent along with his welcome packet; he guessed Braden received the same information about him. Finally remembering himself, he stood and held out his hand.

"Yes, I'm Clark. Sorry, I must have—"

"Wow, you're pretty tall huh? Guess you're dethroning me as tallest guy in the Hall. How tall are you?"

Clark wondered if he ever stopped talking. "Uh...not really sure..."

Braden swung Clark around, pressing his back to his. "I'd say at least 6'4'. I'm only 6'1 myself." He stepped away from Clark shaking his head in amazement, seeming to admire this new turn of events. Clark just stood there, still trying to catch up.

"So, lets go." He pulled on Clark's arm, leading him to the door. Clark allowed himself to be pulled, not wanting to accidentally misjudge his strength and hurt Braden in the first five minutes they know each other. He remembered the first time he didn't allow himself to be dragged by his friend Pete—it resulted in a dislocated shoulder and a lot of pain for his friend. He still remembered running as fast as the wind, not stopping until he got to their barn, where he hid under a hayloft. It'd taken both parents hours of patient talking and finally a call from Pete's Mom to coax him out of the barn and convince him he wasn't a monster.

"Clark? Come on." Clark shook himself out of his thoughts; he'd have to remember to try harder not to slip away into his own subconscious if he wanted to make friends.

"Where are we going?"

"Dinner. Its six o'clock, and I'm starving. I've been trying to wake you for like ten minutes, I thought we should eat our first dinner of the semester together, and then I can introduce you to all the crew. They've been wanting to scope you out since I found out we were going to be roommates."

Clark was about to ask what happened to his old roommate, but as he'd already learned Braden didn't need to be asked anything, he was more than happy to keep talking.

"My old roommate's Dad is heading up some operations in Switzerland of all fucking places this year, and decided they needed to bond or something ridiculous like that, so he dragged poor Dean along with him. Sucks, we were roommates for like four years."

"Oh, I'm sorry..."

But Braden just gave him a dazzling smile. "Its fine, I mean change is good right? Damn wait til' they see how tall you are. They're going to flip! You're pretty good looking too, but I don't know if that's good or bad yet." Braden laughed at his own joke and together they walked down the hall, Braden leading the way, still laughing.

As he followed Braden into the Great Hall, he paused on the threshold. The room both excited and intimidated him. It was nothing like the expansive cafeteria at Smallville High. There, the tables where a mish-mash of old and new, all with the same industrial metal, the older ones topped with a fake surface that was supposed to resemble wood, and usually scarred by the hundreds of students over the years who'd tried to pull back the layers to expose the farce. Everyone usually paired off in groups, some rowdy, some introverted, the whole room alive with a sea of different colors and activity.

But this couldn't have been more different. The walls were covered in dark mahogany, more closely resembling the many drawing rooms of his father's investors he'd seen over years, than the eating hall of teenage males. The only lighting illuminating the room came from ornate brass wall sconces adorning each wall panel; together they gave off a diffused gentle glow, that matched the solemn tapestries hanging at either end of the hall depicting boys dressed in similar garb eating at those very tables decades ago. And in sharp contrast of the dizzying array of colors that could be found in Smallville High on any given day—there was only one prominent color in the room—blue. Though they weren't required to wear their uniforms just yet, they were required to dress in code for dinner. So everywhere he looked, he saw white and blue shirts, with dark navy trousers. He took a quick glance down at his own pale blue button-down and navy pants, and felt a small comfort that he didn't stand out for once.

Braden was eyeing him curiously and walked back, slipping an arm around his shoulder affectionately. "Don't worry Clark, I know it all looks a little scary, but trust me, you'll fit right in."

Clark gave him a weak smile in response, and let himself be ushered over to a table closest to the high arched windows.

"Well, here he is guys—in the flesh. Clark Kent everyone."

Eight pairs of eyes looked up from their place settings at once. All with same quizzical, slightly bemused expression. Clark stood there awkwardly, waiting for the introductions. Remembering the constant flow of information Braden assaulted him with the entire walk there, he knew that four of the ten most important families in Metropolis were represented at the dining hall table, composing "the crew" as Braden kept referring to them.

He watched each of them eye him with a mixture of interest and trepidation as they stood one by one to greet him. The first to stand and offer his hand was a boy with jet black curls, and skin the color of cinnamon toast. He introduced himself as Kennedy Prescott, son of President and CEO of Prescott Publishing, Metropolis's largest distributor of magazines catering to the young urban professional. Clark wondered if he was expected to recite his family's resume in response. Kennedy feigned consternation when Braden told them his family's business, and the other boys seemed to follow suit when he was introduced to them as well. Each expression giving way to a look of recognition—immediately followed with, "oh right, my mother insists our cook shop there…" or something similar. He tried not to feel too offended.

It wasn't until half way through dinner that his surroundings actually seemed to sink in. Instead of sitting in their dining room with his father, waiting for his mother to bring out the always still warm sweet rolls they had with every dinner, he was sitting here, one among a couple of hundred, trying not to be overwhelmed by the constant din of overactive teenage boys. He felt a sudden sadness that settled somewhere in his abdomen and he regretted insisting that his parents not call him his first night there.

Braden claimed he would fit right in, but he wondered how as he listened politely to their conversations, never really feeling a moment where he thought he could interject anything of importance. As the dinner hour moved on he felt more and more distant and lonely, and couldn't wait to be back in his room so he could stop pretending to be cheerful.

A staff of men and women dressed in white aprons swept into the room to remove their dinner plates. The food wasn't bad, definitely better than the mystery concoctions he'd seen in his previous cafeteria experience, but it didn't touch the culinary expertise of Martha Kent. The beef roast had been too dry, and even drowning it in the accompanying gravy didn't help matters. His spirits didn't improve any when Braden informed him that this was a special dinner, and the normal daily meals weren't nearly as nice. Clark sighed and handed his mostly empty plate to the server with a quiet "thank you".

Now that dinner was finished, the noise in the room rose sharply as everyone started talking excitedly at their seats with nothing else to do. Clark wondered why they simply couldn't leave, when a loud clanging of a bell answered his question. The noise simmered to a low hum, finally settling into complete silence only broken by the occasional cough or sniffle.

A tall man with mixed gray hair and a youthful face, with only the deep lines etched there revealing his true age, stood on the elevated platform at the far end of the hall with a long table behind him. Braden leaned over and whispered that normally all the department heads sat at the table and ate dinner with them.

"Good evening young men. I'll try and make this brief because I know how eager each of you must be to start on the delicious dessert prepared for you this evening, which the department heads and myself will be joining you for. Many of you know me well, but for the benefit of any new students and freshmen." Clark could have sworn his eyes met his for a moment.

"I am Headmaster Winchester, head of Excelsior Prep. I oversee the faculty and Dean of Students, and try to be a mentor to every student here. This year we're doing things a little differently. You will have your full orientation in the morning, and tonight will be only to meet your new teacher and socialize amongst yourselves. I trust each of you will welcome our new student entering the junior class, Clark Kent."

A few heads turned to look in his direction, and Clark felt his cheeks flush deep red.

"Now, we are happy to welcome a new teacher this year, who is also an alumni of Excelsior Prep. He'll be taking over Economics for third year students, and teaching a philosophy class. Please welcome Lex Luthor to the Excelsior family."

The shock was too great for many boys to hide their gasps, and soon the noise in the room elevated again. Winchester cleared his throat and the room became silent again, and a tall, impossibly bald man entered through a side door and joined the Headmaster at the podium.

The boys around him continued to whisper furiously. Clark knew the name of course; everyone in Metropolis did. The Luthors were the most powerful family in the city, some say in the country. The family only consisted of Lex and his father now, with his father running Luthorcorp solely. Clarks till remembered the scandal it caused when upon graduating Princeton, Lex decided to relinquish his rightful place beside his father. He made a simple speech to the press, denouncing everything his father stood for, turning his back on Luthorcorp entirely. He then entered a teachers college in Metropolis and had kept a low profile every since.

There'd been many whispers and rumors about the real reason Lex had denied his inheritance. Drugs, mental illness, even homicide—the rumors grew wilder in the weeks surrounding the announcement even creeping its way to his family's dinner table at home.

Clark remembered his father being very annoyed at how willing people were to believe gossip; saying how brave Lex was for doing what he did, that it took a lot of guts and tenacity few men possessed to walk out on everything you'd been raised to be, and to see his father for what he truly was and he'd gladly give him a job one day.

Clark watched him now, standing in front of them, addressing the students simply, completely unselfconscious of his appearance. For the first time that evening, Clark really listened to what was being said.

"I won't pretend it's not strange for you all to see me standing here, claiming to be your new professor of economics. But I hope any preconceived notions you may have of me, don't get in the way of what I think could be a very promising relationship." He paused, surveying the now attentive faces.

"I come from the same place as most of you, and I understand you better than most are able to, through no fault of their own. I'd like to offer you my insight of the world you're about to be thrust into, and if you'll let me, offer you guidance."

He smiled good-naturedly, it faltered only when he eyes rested on Clark's rapt expression, but only for an imperceptible moment.

"Well, I don't want to keep you from dessert any longer. Those of you who take my class, will find out enough eventually."

He gave a polite nod, to even politer applause, though Clark would swear it was tinged with sincere enthusiasm. He smiled to himself; he couldn't wait to tell his Dad who'd be teaching his Economics class.

The fact that Lex Luthor was now part of Excelsior faculty was all anyone could talk about the entire way back to their dorms. Clark was forgotten completely by the crew, which was fine with him. Braden in particular seemed excited by the new subject, and now prattled on at length while they changed for bed.

"I mean, why would a billionaire's son become a _teacher_?! That's nuts!"

Clark pulled his shirt off, rummaging through his still unpacked luggage for a t-shirt.

"I don't see what's so nuts about it, I remember what he said when he turned down the position of VP, he said he wanted nothing to do with ruining Metropolis."

Braden leaned back on his bed, clad in just purple boxers; the only part of their wardrobe they'd have any control over all year. Clark would soon come to find that it was fashionable for most of the boys to get the most outrageous and colorful boxers they could find.

"Oh you believe that nonsense about his Dad being all evil? Plenty of rich men throughout history have been accused of the same thing. Most of it is bullshit."

Clark slipped out of his pants, revealing his very boring pale blue boxers. "Maybe so, but I think Lex Luthor would know better than anyone whether or not his father was really as bad as most claim."

Braden just shrugged, already growing bored with the subject.

"Maybe, still you'd think he'd start his own company or something, not come back to his old school to teach us idiots."

Clark just shrugged with a smile, and slipped his t-shirt over his head. Braden watched as he stretched his arms to pull on the tee.

"You're pretty ripped Kent." Clark eyed him curiously, and he added, "You'll have to show me your workout routine. I'm positively scrawny."

Clark ignored the strange uneasy feeling that suddenly crept over him, and nodded, pulling on his pajama bottoms hastily and climbed into bed.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Hey guys, well this time I'm outside, I thought you'd like to see a little of the grounds...I'm pointing the camera at the lake, well they call it a lake, its more like a pond. Its one of those really nice days we get in September, so I'm just enjoying being outside, you know how much I love to sit in the sun... ok, really I'm trying to escape my roommate for a few minutes. He's a really nice guy, just...energetic. And I know, I have more energy than anyone, but even though I'm sure I can't actually get one, I think he gives me a headache. But I like him, and I think we'll get along great, so that's at least one less thing for you to worry about. Oh, I met all his friends too, at dinner. We had this really cool dinner, with servers and everything, but Braden said that's not an everyday thing, which is fine, its weird having someone else clear your plate for you—ok, except for you Mom, and sometimes Luanne—Oh say hi to her by the way, and tell her not to forget all about me now that's she's working for you and Dad away from home. But anyway, the guys seemed... nice, I guess. You probably know all their Dads, or know of them. Kennedy's Dad owns Prescott Publishing; you know the one who publishes all those magazines you always shake your head at whenever we go past a newsstand in Metropolis? Damon's Dad is President of Howard Builders, they built that tall "monstrosity" as you affectionately call it on the waterfront, and is turning all the old warehouses by the docks into condos. He was kind of standoffish, but I guess it just takes time to get him to warm up. Um...Jesse's Dad runs a corporate law firm, I forget the name of it, I'm sure his last name is involved, and finally there's Gareth, who I think I liked the best, he was the only one who didn't present me with his family resume when we were introduced. I think you know his Dad, William Little, their family owns Little & Rogers Publishing. The company is over one hundred years old—I think all the Rogers are gone now, and I looked, and their name appears on a lot of my books._

_So that's "the crew"—that's what Braden calls them. Don't worry; it's probably not as snobby as it sounds. I know how you hate things like that. But right now I'm just trying to find my place... I guess the other thing I didn't think about before, was that I won't have anyplace to just be me, you know? Like I loved coming home after school and being able to just do whatever I wanted on the farm, without worrying about anyone seeing me. So here, I'll have to pay attention to everything I do all the time... but don't worry, I can do it, it'll just be hard that's all. Wow, I think it's almost lunchtime. We've been in orientation all morning, so I'd better wrap this up—didn't mean to end on a sour note, I mean I'm fine, I just miss you guys, and the farm, and my friends back in Smallville, but this experience will be good for me, I'm sure of it... Oh! I almost forgot! Guess who's going to be teaching me economics? Lex Luthor! Remember he left Luthorcorp and decided to become a teacher? Well teaching here is his first job. I know how much you admire what he did Dad, so I'm really looking forward to being taught by him. Well, I think Braden just spotted me, so I'd better end this. I love you guys, and I'll talk to you on Friday like we promised."_

Clark shut the camera closed and turned in the direction of Braden quickening steps.

"There you are, I wondered where you ran off to. Come on, me and the boys are heading over to lunch."

Clark noted how Braden never asked if he wanted to do anything, he just assumed he did, and barreled full-speed ahead. Clark just stood up from the fallen log he'd been sitting on in response.

Braden reached over and took his camera out of his hand, turning it over carelessly.

"Nice camera Kent, is it DV?"

Clark resisted the urge to snatch his only lifeline to his parents away from him. "Yeah, my parents got it for me so we could keep in touch." It wasn't until his words left his mouth that he realized maybe most students weren't so attached to their parents that they needed to record their daily lives and send it to them.

And judging by the mixture of amusement and puzzlement on Braden's face he was right.

"Wow Clark, that's uh... sweet." Braden was openly grinning at him now.

Clark's cheeks burned, and he quickly tried to think of something redeeming, but then he realized sometimes the truth was better than anything.

He smiled, still embarrassed. "I know its weird, but my parents and I get along really well, and they kind of miss me telling them about my day when I'd get home from school..."

Braden just laughed, and swung his arm around his neck, pulling him into a half stranglehold, laughing. "Relax Clark, its kinda cool. I mean your parents like you and miss you, not exactly a bad thing, besides, my Dad said you guys were unconventional." Before Clark could ask what he meant by  _"unconventional"_ , Braden let him go with a strong ruffle of his hair and a playful push, and broke into a backwards run. "Your secret is safe with me, now come on before all the fries are gone!"

Braden turned and broke into a sprint towards the main dining hall. Clark jogged behind him wondering if he'd ever get used to Braden's rough-play—he constantly had to make sure he didn't snap his spine in two by accident.

The dining hall looked very different today. The tables were rearranged and the curtain that had been closed before was open to reveal a cafeteria-style counter. The choices now seemed a lot less appetizing, but still better than what he was used to. After deciding to take his chances on two slices of cheese pizza and a carton of fries, he followed Braden to the selected table, where Jesse and Kennedy were already sitting, and Gareth was making his way over with a tray.

"Where's Damon?"

Kennedy looked up from poking his pasta "Oh he and his mother are having lunch with the headmaster." He rolled his eyes, and then threw his fork down in disgust.  
"I swear the food gets worse every year. You must be dying Clark, growing up with all that wholesome goodness."

Clark ignored the veiled insult, and took a bite of his pizza. "This isn't bad, better than my old school."

"Oh, that's right, I hear you actually went to public school in...where was it?"

"Smallville." Braden offered.

"Oh right, wow, this must be like culture shock to you then."

Clark just shrugged, wanting to wipe that smug little smirk off Jesse's face. "Not too much. I mean everyone has been pretty nice so far. "

Gareth tossed his roll at Jesse, sitting down to join them, "Geez, Jesse, you act like Clark grew up in poverty row or something. The Kents have more land than all our families put together. You should see their place in Smallville, its massive."

It was true that his parents had built a much larger home on the land his father grew up on, and left the Kent ancestral home untouched to be used as his father's home office, but Clark didn't like the idea of discussing how much his family had, he'd always been taught that it was in poor taste—that they were fortunate but it didn't make them better than anyone else.

But here, at least amongst these group of boys, it seemed to be the norm to talk about how much each of them had. He could only hope other students weren't like that.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "I was only joking Giraffe, I'm sure Kent here has a sense of humor."

Clark just smiled, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt. "Its ok Gareth, I knew he was joking."

Braden glanced at him sideways—his look was like a silent hug, and quickly changed the subject.

Clark stayed out of most of the conversation, wondering how long he was going to have to pretend to like these boys before he could just move on and find people he could actually get along with. He did like Gareth and ended up talking to him almost exclusively, while the other boys would get into heated debates about things Clark couldn't begin to imagine caring about. The dinner bell rang as Jesse loudly declared that any decent Junior would at least get a 3-series for their first car, and Clark understood what the expression "saved by the bell" really meant for the first time.

* * *

The activities of opening weekend continued, and many parents came back for a Sunday brunch and were allowed to take their kids off campus. His own parents had left for Seattle, Saturday morning, so he was left alone most of the weekend to fend for himself.

He spent most of that time exploring the grounds. The campus stretched for several acres within the gates, spreading out to a dense forest to far from the main buildings for most students to walk. Clark was certain he'd be extra careful when he sped towards them—though he reasoned that even if someone saw him, they wouldn't be sure of what they'd seen. He followed the trees until he spelled a strong scent of lavender; a smell he always associated with his mother. He was about to enter the meadow, when he spotted a lone figure across the field standing a by silver sedan at the edge of a wide path that must have led to the main road. From even as far away as he stood he could tell it was Lex Luthor immediately.

He seemed to be loss in thought. Clark wondered if he should go and talk to him an introduce himself, but he sensed he'd be disturbing him, and he wasn't sure if students were even allowed this far away from the main campus.

His resolve faded and small panic set in and he decided he should leave before he was caught. Just as he sped away, Lex looked across the field. He stood there puzzled because he was certain Clark Kent had been standing among the trees, and now there was nothing. He stared for a long moment, wondering if he was more tired than he thought, or if some of the stories he'd heard about Smallville were true. He laughed softly to himself for even indulging in such a ridiculous idea. But still, he suddenly found himself looking forward to his first economics class in the morning.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Clark had to rise on his own and get to class on time. Given his chronic tardiness, it was not an easy task—and Braden was no help at all. When Clark finally dragged himself out of bed after the fifth time of hitting the snooze alarm, Braden was still sprawled on top his comforter in yellow boxers with a smiley face on the butt, drooling into his pillow. Apparently he wasn't a morning person.

Clark had been asleep when Braden finally dragged himself back to their room after spending all-day and evening with his mother and other members of the crew's families. They'd all insisted he come, but he knew he'd just feel completely out of place being the only parentless boy among them.

He gave Braden a gentle tap on his to the communal bathroom, satisfied when he stirred, and mumbled, "fuck off" into his pillow.

The dorm bathroom reminded him of a more controlled, and even more personal gym locker room. Boys milled around, in various stages of undress, pushing their way to the sinks and mirrors along the wall. Shaving boys, elbowing those who just wanted to brush their teeth out of the way. Clark's face still remained as smooth as some of the younger boys, and he wondered if his species could even grow facial hair. Judging by enough days in the boys' locker room, he knew he had hair in all the other appropriate places, and the hair on his head seemed to grow, maybe it was just a matter of time.

He rushed through his shower, and was making his way over to the sinks, when he spotted Braden finally shuffling in. He immediately felt self-conscious standing there in just his towel—there was something about the way Braden looked at him that made him feel like he was being constantly appraised. He pretended he didn't see him and focused on brushing his teeth. Suddenly there were howls of laughter as someone snatched a towel off of some unsuspecting boy. The boy quickly grabbed his towel back and started wrestling the offender to stave off any embarrassment. Clark sensed he was supposed to join in on the levity, but h e didn't see anything funny about making someone feel like they wanted to crawl into a hole.

Out of the corner of his eye, he say Braden grinning, approaching him quickly with his hand outstretched. Clark knew exactly what he intended to do, and moved quicker than he should have. Braden just stood there, hand hanging in mid-air looking dumbfounded.

He laughed uneasily "Damn Clark, I wasn't really going to do it…you sure move fast."

He stared after him in a way Clark knew all too well. He decided to try and make light of the moment, hoping Braden would decide nothing that odd had just happened.

He grinned at him, throwing his soap in his direction. " Yeah, well keep your hands to yourself."

That seemed to break the tension' and Braden returned his smile. "Don't be so uptight Kent." And he disappeared into the shower room.

* * *

"I know most of you have read the papers, and most of your parents probably discussed the scandal at length when it happened. Most of what was in the papers was true, but obviously there's much more to the story. So, in order for you all to be able to concentrate, and trust me as your teacher, we're going to use this time for you to ask me any questions you want. I will try and answer as honestly as I can—within reason. The first question that seems too personal, or inappropriate, the Q&A session ends, no second chances. That sounds fair to everyone?"

The tension in the room was tangible; it was if all the boys were silently daring each other to make the first move. Clark sat in the very last row in the back. It'd been the only available seat because despite his best efforts he arrived just a few seconds before the final bell rang, but gratefully, he still made it in before Mr. Luthor, so his attempt at making a good impression wasn't blown.

A boy, small for his age with reddish blonde hair sitting near the front was the first to raise his hand.

Lex glanced down at a seating plan next to him. "Yes Edward…or is it Eddie?"

"Eddie sir. So, are you poor now, is it worth it."

Lex smiled, and Clark noticed his smile never seemed to make it past a bemused smirk, but there was nothing rude in his manner. "No Edward, I'm not poor. I have considerably less than my father, but my mother insured I'd be well provided for even without my father's money. And there is this small thing of working for a living."

There was a burst of uneasy laughter around the room. After Eddie broke the ice, the questions begin to fly, everyone being careful not to get too personal. Clark sat back and watched, not having the guts to ask a question himself—though he wasn't sure what he'd ask anyway. The hour went by fast, with Lex being engaging and interesting, answering all questions with a candor unexpected from a teacher. There was an audible groan when Lex announced class was coming to an end.

"While this was all very enlightening, be prepared to present at least one company that is notorious for fair and progressive business practices in the next class,. And Mr. Kent, I probably don't have to tell you it would be unfair for you to use your own family's company."

Clark flushed from the sudden attention as every head in the classroom turned to look at him. He tried to squeak out and answer, but the bell sounded before he could.

Lex spoke over the din of chairs and boys scrapping across the old polished floors.

"I want all the information on the companies you choose that is listed on the board; which I'm sure all of you copied down when you first came into class. Those of you who didn't will have to rely on the kindness of your classmates to complete your assignment Have a good day gentlemen."

Judging by the panic look on over half the class faces, quite a few hadn't even noticed the writing on the blackboard that said in very large letters 'Assignment #1' Clark hadn't noticed it either, but he said a silent thanks to his photographic memory as he looked at the board and filed the information away for later.

Mr. Kent?"

Clark promptly dropped his book as he stood up too quickly to answer. He had been waiting for the rest of the class to file out before he made his exit.

He snatched the book up quickly. "Yes Mr. Luthor?"

"Can I see you for a moment?"

Clark frowned in confusion but approached his desk, where Lex sat perched on the edge.

"I know I said you couldn't write about your own family's business, but feel free to offer any information to the other boys, in fact your parent's business plan is the basis for a lot of my teachings this year."

Clark didn't bother to hide the smile on his face as he swelled with pride. It'd be so important to his parents that they build their business on honesty and fairness, banking on the value of good product. It'd paid off, and now they were opening six new stores along the west coast, which would grow the total amount to thirty across the country.

"I know this is presumptuous of me, but you'll be choosing your independent studies soon, and I'm writing a book on a better way to run corporations. I've gotten permission from the Dean, and I'd love it if you'd consider assisting me."

Clark didn't know what to say. He was honored of course, but the truth was, he didn't really know the intrinsic details of how the company worked. His parents wanted him to have as carefree an existence as possible, so they never burdened him with the daily running of the business.

"I'm flattered Mr. Luthor, and believe me I'd love it. But I don't know how much help I'd be, I mean any more than any other student. I don't really know much about how the business is run."

Lex quickly dismissed his concern. "I wouldn't expect a sixteen year old to. If you share their values, it's all I need. I'll handle the details. What I'm trying to convey is an extension of a general life philosophy. Your business should be run with the same values that you conduct your life with. That's all I'm trying to get across, do you think you'd be willing to assist me?"

Clark beamed, grateful that at least something was going right his first few days in school. "I'd love to. Thank you."

Lex stood and walked around to the other side of his desk. "Good, we'll discuss it more next month when everyone starts their independent studies. You'd better hurry or you'll be late for your next class."

Clark caught himself before he moved too quickly, and hurried out the door.

Lex watched him go, and tried to push down the idea that he had ulterior motives for wanting Clark to be his student assistant. He couldn't deny being drawn to him—it was hard not to. Few boys his age possessed such grace and earnestness, and, well, lets face it, he was beautiful, but more importantly, he was sixteen, and no matter how tall he was, he was still a kid. But he honestly couldn't think of a better student to assist him. Lex sat down at his desk to plan out his next lesson, convinced that he could keep his hands off of Clark Kent.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark picked up his cell phone for the fifth time in the last few minutes. He wished now he'd never asked for a new phone before he started school. Why did he have to be so attracted to new gadgets, there was nothing wrong with his old phone, it was only a year old, and now he was being punished because this new one he just had to have clearly wasn't working. What else would explain why his parents were now twelve minutes late with their first phone call?

Maybe it just wasn't charged—he grabbed the phone again to see the battery bar full, mocking his impatience. He was so full of consternation he didn't duck in time to avoid a wadded up t-shirt from colliding with his head. He pulled the offending shirt off his face and glared at Braden.

"Damn Clark, are you expecting a call from the President or something?"

Clark just narrowed his eyes at him. "No."

"Oh! A girl, who is she Kent?"

Clark just shook his head, stealing another glance at his phone. "Braden..."

Braden smiled impishly. "A boy?"

Clark picked up the tee and hurled at Braden's Cheshire grin. "Definitely no."

Braden's only response was to break out in a fit of laughter— he was about to choke out a response, when Clark's phone rang. Clark was so startled it actually rang that he hesitated just long enough for Braden to reach the phone first. He whipped his head around just in time to hear Braden brightly saying "Hello" into his phone.

Clark tried to assess how much strength a normal person would use to grab a phone away from someone else, but Braden twisted away from him laughing.

"Is this Clark's mystery lover? Oh. Hi Mrs. Kent!"

Clark whispered through clenched teeth. "Braden give me the phone."

But Braden just moved and continued talking. "Yes, he's right here, giving me dirty looks. I swear Mrs. Kent if looks could kill your son would be up for murder right now. But don't worry about him, I'm taking really good care of him, and aside from that minor little scandal the other day, he's been doing well here, I –"

Clark finally snatched the phone away, using slightly more speed than normal. He grinned wide when he heard his mother's voice, forgetting to level one more evil glare in Braden's direction.

"Hi Mom! Listen I should probably take this out in the hall, I don't think I could hear you over Braden's insane laughing."

Clark shut the door behind him muffling Braden's cackling.

"Ok, I'm in the hall, I thought you'd forgotten to call."

"I'm sorry sweety, your father and I were in a meeting and it ran long. He's just finishing up now, and he'll pick up the extension when he's done.

"Where are you?" It felt like he hadn't talked to them in forever and it'd only been six days. He slipped into the telephone room, which was never used anymore, and shut the door.

"We're still at the hotel. Its just an informal meeting with some of the local growers, we're trying to feature as many local grown products as we can."

"How'd it go?"

"Well I think. They were naturally skeptical at first, but I think we've won them over, or they just really enjoyed their lunch." His mother laughed a little, and he realized how much he missed that sound. He swallowed against the unexpected lump in his throat. His Dad was right; he was way too dependent on them.

"Clark?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm here Mom."

He could feel his mother's smile through the phone. "Honey we miss you too."

How did she always know? He had to laugh a little at himself.

"Oh here comes your Dad."

He heard the line click and then the booming sound of his father's voice that was always full of so much life. "Hey son! So how are you holding up?"

"Pretty good. So you got my dvd?"

"Yep, your mother and I watched it the second it arrived. I can't wait to see your room and person. And Clark, I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate you being willing to do this, I know its not easy, but I promise you, it'll get better."

"I know Dad."

He stayed on the phone with them for over an hour. It was nice—the halls were deserted and he could focus on just his parents and try to picture everything they were telling him. They didn't talk about anything earth shattering, just the mundane daily life stuff he took for granted and greatly missed now. They were enjoying seeing California, and couldn't get over how green and lush the Napa region was. They promised to take him back there next summer to see it.

Of course he wasn't allowed off the phone without some sage advice about his friend situation. His Mother was concerned about him making friends with people he didn't seem to respect, and they both warned him it could only lead to problems later. He assured them that he didn't really consider them friends, and that he couldn't afford to shun anyone right now.

The conversation ended all too soon, because Clark remembered he promised Braden they'd study before dinner.

He sat there for a long moment after they hung up, letting everything sink in. The conversation really brought home the fact that they were hundreds of miles away. And even though he could be at their side in a matter of minutes, the distance was suddenly tangible. He opened the door of the phone room finally, when even his moping became too much for him and he just decided to get on with it. He ran down the hall grinning with a new determination to pay Braden back for his earlier insanity.

 

* * *

 

Clark eased into life at Excelsior a lot more easily than he imagined. Partly because he didn't cast his net very wide. Despite his parent's advice, he stayed within the same small group of friends he'd met his first day there, and while he didn't like many of them, it felt familiar. A steely stare after one sarcastic comment too many had cooled the "hick-rich-boy from Kansas" talk, and for once Clark was glad of his substantial size. Still an unease remained—he never really got their jokes, which to him were mostly cruel comments, and he didn't share their interests. More importantly Braden was a lot different around them. 

He'd come to enjoy the Braden that drove him crazy in their dorm room, and asked him for more help that should be acceptable with his homework. In more quiet moments, Braden could be quite astute, always picking up on when he was feeling particularly homesick, never making him feel like a total baby for missing his parents.

Underneath the mask of the big wide grin and ready laugh, Braden was actually very intelligent, and Clark often wondered why he put up with the general banality of "the crew". Their only pastime seemed to be insulting each other and everyone around them, all the while coming off superior and arrogant. There was no room for genuine feelings or camaraderie—they were all locked in this constant competition of words and assets and Clark didn't think he'd ever understand the appeal. Kennedy and Damon seemed to be the leaders, and Braden and Gareth seemed to be their reluctant followers, he hadn't figured out Jesse yet, who seemed to have a mean streak all his own.

And it was Jesse Clark was avoiding today, when he decided to grab his lunch and eat it alone by the small pond near the dorms. He wasn't in the mood to hear his viscous maligning of whatever kid crossed their path today. He settled on his favorite boulder, shaded by the tree, placing his lunch next to him, and pulled his digi-cam out of his bag.

" _Hey guys, it was good to finally talk to you. I know it was for my own good, but I hated not being able to talk to you, so thanks Dad for the camera. And you again get to see the lovely pond, lake, I'm not really sure, they call it a pond, its kind of big though, don't you think? Things are Ok here. I'm really enjoying my Economics class; Professor Luthor is amazing. I know I've shied away from business and financial stuff in the past, but I'm learning its more than just numbers, and, you'll be most happy about this Mom, I've learned a new appreciation for how much goes into to running a business, so I apologize for acting bored when you and Dad discuss business at dinner. Though you have to admit, it is kind of boring. Just kidding. Oh, I know you mentioned I need to try and find my own group of friends, and I will…I don't know why I'm so reluctant. I guess part of me appreciates not having to fumble my way through the friend circles, since I'm new here, and most of them have been together for a while. I do like Braden, even though he's buts, and Gareth I like a lot, it's just—"_

"Sorry Clark, didn't mean to interrupt."

Clark blushed with embarrassment and closed the digi-cam. "No, its ok, I just, um, didn't see you."

Lex laughed softly. "Relax Clark, I just saw you sitting here, and thought I'd come over and say hello, and tell you some good news. The dean said you could start working on the project with me as soon as next week, if you think you handle it with your other work load."

Clark smiled up at him. "I can definitely handle it, that'd be great. My parents are pretty excited about it."

Lex gestured to the boulder, and Clark removed what was left of his lunch so he could sit.

"So what are you doing with the camera?"

"Oh, its just something I do for my parents…" he really hated his tendency to blush. "Its just a way to kind of share this with them. My Dad got me this camera so I could record messages to them…I know its completely dorky, but they love this kind of stuff."

Lex just looked at Clark for a moment, and he couldn't really read his expression, he thought he detected a faint note of sadness.

"You're really close to your parents, huh?"

Clark smiled before he could catch himself. "Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to be—teenage rebellion and all, but they're like my best friends and greatest protectors."

"You should never been ashamed of that. Most kids like to talk tough, but the truth is, a lot of them would kill to have what you have."

He didn't know what that made him feel good; Braden had pretty much said the same thing. But coming from a teacher he respected, it carried more weight.

"Thank you Professor."

Lex smiled more warmly now. "Call me Lex, at least out of the classroom. Professor makes me feel old, and I'm not  _that_  much older than you."

Clark nodded, laughing that shy little laugh that for some reason always drove Lex to very inappropriate thoughts. "Ok, Lex."

Lex leaned back on the boulder, slightly away from Clark. "Good. You know I met your Dad once. I was a kid though. My father let me accompany him on a business trip to Smallville. He wanted to buy the Ross's plant, even though he knew your father had put in a bid for it. Mr. Ross agreed to the meeting, and your Dad was there. My father was mercilessly cold to him, but your Dad didn't take the bait. I always remembered that. He didn't lose his cool once, though I could tell he'd have liked nothing more than to throw my father through the window. I admired that at the time, and he was really nice to me too, offered to take me around while my Dad had his meeting. My father wouldn't allow it of course. Anyway, maybe its such a fond memory because it was right before everything changed."

"Changed?"

"Yeah, the meteor shower, its how I lost my hair."

Clark turned away sharply, and a familiar knife twisted in his stomach. "Oh…"

"You're probably too young to remember it."

Clark just nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Anyway, I should get ready for my next class. Hey….you ok?"

Clark looked up and put on his most convincing smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking about home I guess."

Lex nodded sympathetically. "Being away from home is never easy. I'll see you tomorrow."

Clark waved, and leaned forward on the rock, just staring at the patterns the sun made on the ponds surface. The one thing he hoped would be different here was the constant reminder of how he came to this world. In Smallville it was painted on people's faces, splattered all over their lives, and now he'd been the cause of the change in Lex's life too.

He put his camera away, no longer in the mood to finish. As much as he loved his family and his life in general, he knew he'd take it all back in a heartbeat if he could—anything to spare innocent people the pain they've had to endure. Even though his parents had drummed into him since that fateful day almost two years ago that it wasn't his fault, a part of him always felt a responsible.

The bell rang in the distance and Clark gathered his things and headed back toward the building, trying to shake off his sudden dark mood. He thought of the movie night Braden planned, complete with popcorn and smuggled R-rated movies in the common room. Braden had bribed the RAs sufficiently and assured everyone they would not be disturbed. That made him smile a little, and he picked up the pace to his next class.

 

* * *

 

Hands trailed his skin, making every pore tingle with anticipation. His entire body was bathed in a warmth that seemed to radiate from the inside. He sighed heavily, as the hands continued to explore parts of his body that had yet to awakened. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin as a surge of intangible pleasure spread through him, settling in a warm pool in his abdomen. He reached down to touch it, and it felt hot and sticky. Since when was his stomach sticky?

Clark woke with a start, a small moan still caught in his throat, panting softly with a hand still on his belly that was definitely in contact with something wet and sticky. He glanced under his sheets and saw his very erect penis nudging above the top of his boxers, still wet with whatever was on his stomach. What the hell, did he just? –his mind immediately raced back to sixth grade health class, the day when the boys and girls had been separated and told about the "changes in their bodies", changes that had never happened to Clark, and all this time he just assumed that in this he was also different from everyone else. Leave it to him to not have his first wet dream until he was sixteen.

He snatched up a t-shirt he'd thrown carelessly at the end of his bed, and glanced over at Braden, who's curled form didn't stir under his sheets. Clark got out of bed and slipped the t-shirt over his head, stretching the fabric as far down as it would go without tearing. After grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his drawer, he tiptoed across the room, hoping to make it to the bathroom without running into anyone.

He eased the door open and peaked into the hall—it was all clear. Just as he was about to step into the hall, a groggy voice stopped him.

"Geez Clark, what's with all the moaning...you still have wet dreams?"

It was one of those moments when you're too mortified to move. He stood there, frozen for what seemed like an eternity as bright red crept up his neck and erupted on his face. He tried frantically to think of something clever to say, to find some way to laugh it off, but all he managed to croak out was " Uh….." so he quickly slipped out the door, shutting it behind him.

He ran to the bathroom, and headed straight for the shower room. It was empty thankfully, and Clark pealed off his clothes and turned the water on full blast. He stood under the spray staring down at his penis, now beginning to lose some of its rigidity, like it was out to get him.

Other boys had books, movies, even Google to help them understand what was going on with their bodies. They could talk it over with other boys their age, compare notes, share stories—Clark remembered that time well; all the bragging to mask embarrassment in the gym locker rooms. But what was he supposed to do? Not even his parents could provide answers. On the outside he looked like everyone else, but inside he could be anything.

Aside from the fact that he already knew it wasn't normal that he hadn't had an erection before now, he had no way of knowing what was coming next, and if it would be something he could keep to himself. He had no idea how his species matured, for all he knew he could suddenly turn blue and sprout wings.

He stepped from beneath the shower spray and leaned his back against the tile. He glanced down at his penis again that still stood somewhat at attention, and without thinking gave it a gentle tug. A surge of heat rose through him, and he pulled it again, this time harder, and after the third tug he threw his head back and came somewhat noisily. His head felt like it was on fire, and warm cum coated his fingers. The rush of heat settled behind his eyes and he almost screamed from the sudden pain that faded as quickly as it arrived.

This was not good.

And it didn't get any better as the day wore on. His penis decided to exercise its new skill throughout the day at the most bizarre times and for no reason Clark could see. In economics class in particular he was grateful that their school uniforms included a blazer, and that a few of the boys had taken to wearing their oxfords un-tucked. For once Clark decided he'd be fashionable as he yanked his shirt out of his pants while trying to pay attention to what Professor Luthor was telling the class. It was something about a group assignment, but the throbbing in his pants was making it difficult to focus.

"…So you'll pair off into groups of three and create a mock corporation. You'll decide on your product, create a business plan and secure financial backing. We'll follow your company's progress through the rest of the semester. Once your companies have been approved, you'll go public, and we'll have a real stock market you can trade on. Any questions?"

Several hands went up and Clark just sat there wondering what he missed. Gareth leaned over to ask him if he'd be one of his partners.

" I think Jordan would be interested too…"

Clark just nodded, wishing Gareth wouldn't lean so close to him. Even the slightest brush against his skin when he was in this state sent a thousand heated pinpricks all over his skin. Fortunately Lex clearing his throat and looking pointedly at Gareth made him lean back in his chair.

"You can all decide on your business partners after class. I want you to have your partners and product ready for discussion next class."

The bell rang and everyone stood as Lex reminded them of an upcoming test, reminded them anyone who cheated would be forced to listen to the headmasters lectures on tape. Everyone laughed as they filed out, and Clark jumped up ready to run out of the class before anyone noticed just how alert he was.

Bjut through the laughter he heard his name called in a familiar voice.

"Clark, could you come here for a second?"

 _Dammit._ Clark walked up to Lex's desk, tugging at his shirt.

"Yes, Professor, I mean Lex…I mean Professor."

"Clark are you ok? You look a little flushed."

Clark nodded, wishing he would just get to the point. "Yeah, I'm fine, I mean I'm just a little warm I think."

"Well, I wanted to firm up our working schedule. Are Wednesday and Friday evenings ok with you? We can always add more time if we need it. Are you sure you don't want a pass to the nurse?"

"No, really, I'm fine."

Maybe he could just cut the whole thing off, but knowing him, it'd just grow back. He shifted his leather satchel forward, which he realized was dumb because it just drew attention to what he was trying to hide.  _Well maybe Lex hadn't noti—Oh God_.

Lex bit back a smile, and stifled a laugh, remembering all too well the predicament Clark found himself in. He decided to cut the poor kid a break.

"So, Wednesday and Friday work for you?"

"What? Oh, yes. I really have to…."

Lex smiled despite his best efforts. "Its ok Clark, Go. You should probably hurry."

Clark just sighed. "By, Lex, and I'm really sorry."

Lex's smile widened and he couldn't keep the levity out of his voice. "No need to apologize. Happens to all of us."

He wondered if he pinched himself really hard would he wake up, because none of this could really be happening, it'd just be too cruel. Clark turned quickly and exited the classroom as fast as he could without using any powers. He wondered now why he ever thought reaching sexual maturity would be fun. This was like a small nightmare. He pressed his hands against his eyes that would not stop itching and burning, and hoped it would all be over soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Mind over matter—he didn't have to give into his overactive libido; he could control it. If he simply told it to go away and stop trying to bust through the fabric of his pants, it would. Or so the theory said. Unfortunately, it was just another human cliché that didn't seem to apply to aliens, though he couldn't be certain it applied to humans either. It was just something more evolved people said to make others feel hopeless.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the day without too much incident. He'd figured out he was most active in the morning and evening. Even still, he wasn't up to facing "the crew" at dinner, so he headed towards the grove of trees lining the property and went for a walk instead, not bothering to grab any food, condemning himself to a meal of whatever was in the dorm vending machines.

The days were already getting shorter and the sun had begun its descent, making the trees look black and ominous against the darkening sky. The scene reflected his mood perfectly. He kicked a rock that blocked his path and watched it soar through the trees, cutting through the brush, leaving splintering branches in its wake. He crushed another in his hand, tossing the remnants deep into the grove. He hadn't realized how angry he was.

All day he'd kept the self-pitying phrase out of his head. "Its not fair," because his Dad always warned him about sulking.

"Sulking leads to standing still—thinking leads to action."

Well, easy for him to say. He didn't have a raging hard-on and blinding pain behind his eyes to accompany it. And how exactly could his parents help even if they were here? What was he supposed to do, ask his Dad if he'd help him figure out how to control the pain while he masturbated? His stomach clinched at the very thought. This time he was on his own, and he was even more clueless than the time he started to see straight through people's skin and saw their skeletons smiling at him. He still remembered falling in gym class when his best friend turned into a pulpy mass of tendons and muscles.

He felt a small surge of heat behind his eyes, and then they cooled immediately. He knew his "problem" was dormant for a while. It'd been like that all day, each time the heat intensifying. He had no idea why his eyes were involved with his penis, but the connection was undeniable. He circled back along the edge of the grove, intending to go further when he heard his name called in the distance.

"Clark, I see you! Where are you going? You know you'll get reamed if they see you this far off the grounds after dark."

Clark sighed heavily—suppressing a word his mother would never approve of and started up the hill towards Braden and Jesse.

"They wouldn't know anything if you didn't shout it across the field."

Braden grinned. "Oops, you're probably right. Where were you anyway? You missed dinner."

Clark fell into step beside them. "I wasn't hungry."

Jesse snickered a little. "Whats wrong Kent, are you all sad with homesickness?"

Clark shot him a sharp look and didn't answer. He was not in the mood for one of Jesse's infamous teasing sessions. He heard Braden whisper to Jesse to leave him alone, but that just spurned Jesse on.

"Relax Bradey, you act like he's some delicate child or something. I'm sure Kent can speak for himself, besides he knows I'm kidding."

Clark stopped and turned to look at him. "Well, you're not funny, so maybe you need a new routine."

"Maybe you need to stop being so damn uptight all the time. You definitely know how to suck all the fun out of the air."

Braden looked worriedly at both of them, as the tension between them continued to rise.

"Its ok Clark, Jesse was just being his usual—"

"I definitely don't need you speaking for me."

Clark was suddenly sick of everything, and wanted nothing more than to run and not stop until he was far away from there. And he knew he should have just walked away, leaving Jesse to stew, but his emotions seemed to be on the surface all day.

"Someone with half a brain should speak for you, it'd be a nice change."

"Fuck you Kent." Jesse shoved him, but Clark didn't allow his body to give, and Jesse would have had better luck trying to push a brick wall.

Jesse stepped back rubbing his wrists, while he stood there glaring at him, and part of him enjoyed the look of uncertainty and fear that crossed Jesse's face, but another part of him was sickened that he had been the one to put it there. Clark turned away from both of them sharply and headed in the direction of the pond.

Clark felt badly for Braden, who'd been innocent in all this, and he knew he hated any kind of confrontation, but at that moment, he didn't care—he didn't care about anything.

"Clark..come on!"

"Oh let him go, that guy's a pain in the ass anyway. You coming or not Bradey, Damon and the other guys are waiting in the lounge for us."

Clark could almost feel Braden's hesitation, but in the next moment, he heard his footsteps retreat along with Jesse's.

Lex watched the whole event unfold from the window of his rooms. He knew from experience it was better not to intervene in these little squabbles, to let the boys work it out for themselves first. He'd been surprised to see Clark involved in any altercation, but he had to admit he seemed a little off in class earlier. Of course raging hormones can do that to you. He found it strange since Clark already seemed older than his sixteen years in some respects. He remembered what a moody little shit he had been when going through the same thing; of course he had bigger concerns than hormones even then.

He'd wondered when he took the job if it would bring up too many painful memories, but the most painful thing had been seeing how little things had changed. The cruelties were still there, this time instead of him being the target of malice, it was another boy, too small for his age. Same pompous attitudes, same blatant disregard for how fortunate they were. He'd been guilty of that himself, until he saw first hand how dark this world could become if you gave into its excesses. Clark Kent had been the only bright spot, because he seemed untouched by all of this. His parents had miraculously instilled in him the values he hoped to instill in most of his students, and it was plainly displayed in the earnestness in his bright blue-green eyes, and the easy blush of his cheeks. He only hoped Clark could retain the inner goodness he admired after two years at Excelsior.

He watched Clark walking resolutely towards the large pond, and decided he might like an evening stroll himself.

* * *

Clark walked along the muddy edge of the pond until he found his favorite boulder. The sky was completely dark now and the pond looked like a purple pool with the full moon overhead glinting on it creating an eerie reflective light. He could hear the sounds of random chatter and laughter as students headed into the dorms for the evening. He dropped his bag on the ground and closed his eyes, trying to push all the anger that'd been building inside of him all day away. He didn't know why this whole thing was distressing him. It was just sexual maturity; not the end of the world, boys went through it everyday. The only difference was, most boys could be pretty certain of its outcome, and he didn't know if he'd ever get to use his burgeoning penis on an actual woman without doing serious damage. As if on cue, it rose to the occasion, and Clark started rubbing his eyes vigorously. To make matters worse he saw a tall figure approaching. He'd been so engrossed in his own head, he hadn't noticed the sound of footsteps coming closer, and now it was too late to disappear without being noticed. 

"Clark?"

He looked up and half-heartedly waved Braden over.

"I thought you were watching movies again in the lounge."

Braden looked positively sheepish. He stood there shuffling back and forth, taking a step forward then stopping. In an instant he seemed to remember they were alone and Clark probably wasn't one to hold a grudge. He walked over and stood in front of him.

"Jesse is an asshole"

Clark looked up, wishing Braden would just go away now, but he knew he'd be hurting the wrong person if he told him so.

"Yes, he is."

"I'm sorry Clark, I didn't really know what to do."

He knew how much it took Braden to admit he didn't know anything other than calculus, and he felt some of the anger dissipating.

"Its ok, I'm just not in the mood for Jesse today I guess."

Braden sat next to him on the boulder. "Maybe, he's still an ass though."

"I don't know why you hang out with him—with most of them."

Braden just shrugged, and he knew the subject was closed.

"What are you doing sitting in the woods in the dark anyway, its creepy. There's even a full moon. Are you a werewolf or something?"

Clark shifted away from him, as his "problem" continued to raise its ugly head.

"Damn Clark, stop being so fidgety, what's wrong?"

Braden reached over to touch his shoulder, and Clark flinched.

"God, Braden…don't"

"Whats wrong with you? Oh!" Braden started to laugh when he saw the predicament he was in, but stopped when Clark bent over and let his head fall into his hands, mumbling "Its not funny."

"Sorry. Wow, what's going on with you?" He tried to pull Clark up to a sitting position.

"Braden, stop!"

"Clark, its not like I've never seen a boner before. I heard you moaning in your sleep, so it's not some big secret. You probably just need to wank off more, I never hear you doing that."

Clark turned five shades of red. He really didn't want to have this conversation.

"Let me see."

"What?! No!"

"Clark stop being such a baby."

Braden kept tugging on his shoulder, until finally he had to allow him to pull him up for fear he'd snap his wrists.

"Damn, you're huge. You'd think it would go down some by now." He reached his hand over to touch it.

Clark jerked. "What are you doing?!"

"Relax Clark, I'm helping."

Braden rubbed it gently through the fabric of his pants, and his penis gave a little jerk, sending an incredible wave of heat and pleasure that seemed to spread through his veins. Clark leaned his head back against the tree, pushing Braden's hand away.

Braden ignored him and unzipped his pants. "Um..Braden..?"

"Shhh …it'll be over quickly."

Apparently Braden was an expert, because his penis came alive in his hand, and he could barely control the low noises escaping his throat. He came to his senses briefly and was about to insist he let go, when Branden rubbed the sensitive skin on the underside of his penis causing him to moan loudly. It shocked him how his body responded to his touch. It obviously knew something he didn't, and Braden stroked harder until Clark was practically squirming off the rock.

"Will you hold still?"

"I…"

Before he could apologize he felt a rush of heat explode behind his eyes. The heat was so intense his eyes flew open, and the pond in front of them sizzled and smoked. Clark stared incredulously at the smoke now receding into the cool water. He was still panting and he felt his penis erupt into Braden's waiting palm. He felt like he'd been suddenly doused in cool water, as his breathing returned to normal.

Braden chuckled softly and wiped his hand on the grass. "Well, that was intense."

Clark just glanced at him and everything that just happened hit him at once. He thought about digging himself a hole in the earth and staying there until next summer.

Braden gently rubbed the head of his now flaccid penis, and tucked it away into Clark's boxers, even zipping up his pants for him.

"Feel better?"

Clark just nodded, not really wanting to look at Braden right now. Inside he was panicking. His roommate had just jerked him off—more importantly he'd allowed his roommate to jerk him off—his male roommate, and he liked it, or his body did. But even more important he was pretty sure he'd caused the pond to sizzle and smoke, and he was certain some sort of heat had come from his eyes. Great! He felt like crying, but he wasn't going to, not while sitting on a boulder in the woods next to his friend who's hand was still sticky from his cum.

Braden stood up. "Look, its not a huge deal. I just wanted to, and it worked out for both of us. I'm going back inside. You coming?"

"Um, yeah, in a minute. And thanks…."  _Thanks?!_

Braden smiled looking a little relieved. "Any time Clark, any time." And disappeared in the trees.

Lex had entered the woods just after Braden did, and had almost headed back when he realized he couldn't explain why a teacher would follow a student into the woods. But seeing how distraught Clark looked, he waited. And what followed shocked him. He'd had his suspicions about Braden, but Clark didn't strike him as anything more than completely hetero. He couldn't really hear their conversation as he stood hidden by the shadows of several large oaks, and it did seem like Braden was the one doing most of the initiating. All common sense told him to walk away, but he stood there riveted, watching Clark's face flush with pleasure, and his red mouth slack as he moaned softly. Not even the pope himself could turn away, and Lex was far from a saint. He left before the magic moment, knowing seeing Clark Kent reach orgasm would do him in. He walked back towards the teacher housing, pants tightening with every step, wondering how he'd ever get through class on Thursday,

Clark sat there for a few minutes, but his thoughts were much too jumbled. The only thought in his head that made any sense caused him to finally stand up, take one look at the dorms in the distance, and start running the other way. He was determined not to stop running until he reached California.


	5. Chapter 5

The sun was just beginning to set when he could see the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. Clark had run across three states and hundreds of miles without stopping, all in a panic. His anxiety hadn't subsided any as he headed north of San Francisco towards St Helena, where his parents were staying. In mere seconds he was in the middle of lush green wine country, and understood immediately why his parents had wanted him to see it. He stopped and asked a small market where the Meadowood Resort was, and found it with no problem.

When he reached his parent's suite it was like everything inside him settled into one massive lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and rang the little bell shaped like a grapevine. He heard his mother's warm voice sing out "Come in!" and his father's soft mumble of "Finally, room service."—and the lump swelled in his throat. He opened the door and stood there on the threshold watching his parent's faces change from delight to worry. But the moment he opened his mouth to explain; to his horror, he burst into tears.

* * *

His father sat the plate of food from room service in front of him, while his mother continued to wipe his face. He just stared at the plate—even though he was starving he didn't think he could eat a bite. For the first time he could remember he was completely embarrassed in front of his parents. He knew they didn't care and were only worried, but he hated to fall apart like that; he never cried, and he knew he'd really scared them.

His father looked from his untouched plate to his very pink face. "Do you want something else son? The food here is pretty amazing."

Clark shook his head, avoiding his father's eyes. "I'm not that hungry Dad."

His mother wiped his remaining tears off his face. "Then do you want to tell us what happened sweetheart?"

He shook his head again.

Jonathan sighed. "Clark…maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe you should just stay here with us and we can get a full-time tutor."

"No Dad, I'm Ok. I'm sorry, something happened and I panicked and just ran."

His mother brushed his bangs away from his face. "Well it would help if you would just tell us what happened."

"Um…I..". Martha watched his cheeks darken and he kept his eyes shifted pointedly away from her. She understood immediately that whatever happened should probably be handled by his father.

Martha cleared her throat. "I'm going in the other room and ordering you a cheeseburger and fries, you need to eat something Clark." She got up from the table and walked into the suite bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Jonathan watched her leave puzzled, but turned his attention back to his son. He peered under Clark's bangs. "Come on son, what is it, I've haven't seen you this upset since you were eight. What's going on?"

Clark pushed the plate away from him and became very interested in the wood grain of the table, wondering if it was maple or oak. How should he even begin? He looked at his dad's kind blue eyes and thought the best way was to just say it all at once before he got too scared to continue.

"I think…I mean I'm….I've hit puberty…." So much for getting to the point.

Jonathan moved his chair closer. "Well, Clark, I mean you're sixteen and look pretty mature, I guess we just assumed that had happened already. Um, forgive me for not being clear, but by puberty you mean you're um..maturing sexually?"

He hated this, he absolutely hated this. He raked his hand through his hair, tugging hard on the curls in frustration. "Yeah…"

Jonathan smiled warmly. "Clark, every boy goes through the same thing, I guess you're just a little late. And I know its embarrassing and frustrating, but son its nothing to worry about."

He looked at his Dad like he'd lost his mind. "Dad I think you're forgetting one very important thing—I'm an alien!"

Jonathan was suddenly grateful for the seclusion of their suite, though he couldn't imagine anyone taking a boy shouting "I'm an alien" seriously. He'd never say raising Clark had been easy. Unfortunately he didn't come with an instruction manual, so they never knew what to expect year to year, and somehow they still managed to raise a very normal, kind, well-adjusted boy. It was not lost of either of them what a miracle that was. They'd made it through super-speed, x-ray vision, and floating above his bed. Whatever this was, they'd pull through as well. He couldn't begin to imagine what his unique problem could be, his brain wouldn't let him go there, but it was obviously causing Clark great distress.

"Clark I know its hard on you every time you get a new ability, and you're away from us, and I know you have to be scared. But son, its probably just the added stress of school that's making this seem like the end of the world."

He just looked at his Dad—he'd have to just say it. "You're not—Dad I..when I…Oh God." So much for the direct approach.

"Just say it son, remember you can talk to us about anything."

There was simply no way around it, he took a deep breath, "When I had what I'm pretty sure was an orgasm, fire shot from my eyes."

His father certainly wasn't expecting that. "Clark, um, are you sure, I mean did something catch fire?"

Clark shook his head.

"Then son, why do you think—"

"Well the lake just smoked."

"The lake? Wait, you were outside?!"

"I couldn't help it Dad!"

"Ok, ok, just calm down. We'll figure this out."

Clark was on his feet. "How! How are we supposed to figure this out? I mean should I practice? What am I supposed to do? This is different, I'm a freak and I'm sick of it!"

He felt like he was going insane. He didn't want to yell, but his emotions were all over the place. Why the fact that it was Braden that caused the fire to shoot from his eyes bothered him more than anything was beyond him—fire shoots from his eyes and he's more worried that he might be gay.

Jonathan almost felt at a lost, but he wasn't giving up. He couldn't imagine what Clark was going through. He was such a loving person, and he knew that he had to be worried he'd never be able to have a normal relationship with anyone. He'd never quite gotten over the fact that there was no other person of his species out there, and now he was faced with an incredible barrier to having a relationship with a human.

"Ok…Listen to me Clark. We don't have time to be embarrassed or shy about. any of this. This is a huge problem, and I get that, I really do."

Clark stopped pacing and looked his Dad with wide very sad eyes.

"Now, I need you to think, before the fire shot from your eyes, what did you eyes do?"

"I'm not sure…"

Jonathan took a deep breath. "And did the fire come from your eyes before or after you….you know."

"Um…before."

Jonathan allowed himself a small smile. "Well, that's good, that means its more than likely triggered by the arousal, not the….um..release."

Clark looked at him puzzled. "What difference does that make?"

"Well, it means its triggered by your thoughts—chemical reactions, and its not part of your…biology."

Clark continued to stare at him blankly. He was sure his cheeks were inflamed and he wished he didn't have to have this conversation, but he was grateful his Dad was trying to make it as comfortable as possible for him.

"What I'm saying Clark is that there's probably some muscles in your eyes at work that can be controlled. So the next time you're um…well the next opportunity you have, just pay attention to the muscles in your eyes and see if you can't make it happen without being aroused first. Does that make sense?"

He nodded, he was willing to try anything. "I really hope you're right Dad, I don't want to have to give up dating for fear I'll incinerate the person I'm with."

Jonathan put his arms on Clark's shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I know its always hard when a new ability of yours springs up, but you'll learn to control this just like you learned to control all the others. Ok?"

Clark smiled for the first time and nodded. His Dad pulled him into a strong hug, and Clark mumbled against his shoulder.

"What's that?"

"I said, thanks for not leaving me in the cornfield."

Jonathan smiled and kissed his head. His mother, who'd been listening in the next room walked back in.

"Cheeseburger is on its way."

"Thanks Mom….what about dessert?"

His mother laughed at his resilience. "Chocolate cake and ice cream are on their way too."

He just walked over and hugged his Mom, staying in her arms for a little longer then he intended.

"I'll go call the school and tell them we're in town and we'll have you back in school the day after tomorrow."

A huge smile spread across his face, and he could hardly believe that twenty minutes ago he was crying like a giant baby. "I can stay?"

His Dad laughed. "Just for tomorrow. We're taking the day off and we can show you around a bit. But don't make a habit of this. If you're intent on going to this school you have to stay there unless there's a holiday, or we let you come for a weekend. Ok?"

"I promise."

There was a knock at the door, and he ran to let room service in, he was starving.

Once he had his food in front of him, he realized something else was still bothering him.

"Um Dad?"

"Yeah, son?"

"Do you think because I'm 'different' that maybe almost anyone can trigger my…um...you know."

His father sat down at the table, while his mother re-heated their food in the small kitchen.

"I'm not sure, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason…I was just wondering."

He just smiled weakly and picked up his cheeseburger wondering how on earth he was going to face Braden when he got back to school.

 

* * *

Lex was surprised when Clark didn't show up for economics class, and normally he was required to let the Dean's office know if a student had an unexplained absence, but he decided to pull Clark's friend Gareth aside instead.

Gareth always had the sense that Professor Luthor could be trusted and decided to forgo the lie.

He shrugged. "Braden was looking for him last night, he said he never came inside after he ran into him after dinner. Should we be worried?"

Lex smiled trying to mask his alarm. "No, probably not, but let me know if you hear anything."

Gareth nodded and hurried off to his next class.

It was very unlike Clark to just skip a class, especially his class where he excelled so much. They were to begin working on his book together that week, so it was even more baffling why he'd risk disciplinary action by cutting class. Lex went into his office across the hall from the classroom to check his mail. And there it was—a message from the Dean's office telling him Clark would be absent today due to "family emergency." He sat down at his desk feeling relieved, but also concerned. At first he wondered if it had anything to do with what he witnessed the previous night. Braden was definitely the initiator and he assumed Clark would have stopped him if he didn't like it. Maybe he was more freaked about it than he seemed.

It was no secret boys at that age liked to experiment, especially ones who boarded. You take a group of adolescent boys with raging hormones and put them together in such close quarters, you're bound to get a lot of confusion and misunderstanding. Most boys returned to a completely hetero lifestyle with no problem, just chalking it up to one ill-timed hard on too many, but some like himself, found their time in boarding school just the beginning of what was to be a way of life. He imagined Braden fell into that category and Clark did not. Even more reason he needed to stop fantasizing about him—straight or not, he was still only sixteen and a student, and Lex had given up compromising his morality long ago.

* * *

Clark stood on the small balcony while his mother ordered dinner and his father took a quick phone call. He really missed this—a seeming never-ending expanse of land that disappeared into the horizon. His parents were right, Napa was a really beautiful place, a lot different than Kansas. His home was the earthy color of wheat and gold—here everything was green and lush, dappled with the deep violet of the wine grapes everywhere.

 

He'd seen as much of it as his parents could show him in a few hours, and he understood why his parents loved it there so much. They really believed in the principles behind their products, and there didn't seem to be a preservative within 50 miles of Napa. He smiled a little remembering how much food he'd consumed that day, and now he was getting ready to have the last meal he'd have with his parents for a while before he headed back to school.

He'd taken the second bedroom in the suite, which was fortunately on the other side of the living room, so he could have the privacy and quiet he needed that first evening. He was emotionally drained and more tired than he realized when he climbed into the bed that was much nicer than his puny dorm one.

After he'd eaten his cheeseburger, he thought long and hard about what his father said. He knew he tended to freak out a little when he got a new ability, forgetting that time and patience usually solved the problem. But he'd never had a problem like this before. When he felt his libido rising again in the middle of night, he slipped out of the room and raced to a large grove that seemed to neighbor nothing but miles of trees and hills, and for once stopped panicking and paid attention. His eyes muscles did contract and expand, and he tried to recreate the movements without the aid of a raging hard-on. After a few tries it worked, and soon he was creating small fires, learning that he could control the intensity of the heat by the way he moved the muscles.

By the time the sky was turning to a pale orange and blue, he decided being able to shoot heat from your eyes was actually pretty cool.

His mother surprised him and served a meal she cooked herself, with all of his favorite foods, and he swore they tasted better than he remembered. After dinner they sent him off with hugs that lasted a little too long and kisses that dampened his cheeks—and just before he got ready to break into a run, his mother handed him a bag swimming with smell of warm spice cake. His smile nearly cracked his face and his kissed his mother again and sprinted off into the dusk.

* * *

He returned to school during the dinner hour so he could delay inevitable confrontation with. It probably wasn't wise to use his speed until he was outside of his dorm, but he didn't care, he didn't want to risk running into anyone. He felt like what happened wit Braden was painted on his face and he dreaded the morning when he'd have to face everyone. He groaned when he remembered the confrontation with Jesse, and flopped down on his bed, pulling his pillow over his head, wondering if anyone would care if he just stayed in his room until Christmas.

 

"Oh, you're back."

Clark jumped a little and removed the pillow from his face. He couldn't believe he didn't notice Braden walking through the door.

"Yeah."

Braden was looking at him like he was trying to see where he was broken. "I never would have thought you'd ditch school, where'd you go?"

"My parents were in town, and I decided to go see them. I didn't mean to disappear."

Braden looked a little relieved and broke into a wide grin. "You're definitely weird Kent. I can't believe your parents let you skip class."

"It was a last minute trip; they called me right after you...um, left."

Braden's smile widened. "Oh yeah…" He sat down next to Clark, a little too close he thought.

"I thought you freaked out or something. So it didn't bother you?" Clark shifted away from him uneasily.

"Braden….I'm not, I mean I don't know what to say…"

Braden studied him for a moment as Clark inched further away. He stood up and his mood changed abruptly. He tried to hide it with a smile, but Clark knew him too well not to see the disappointment.

"There's nothing to say. I know this is your first time in boarding school, so you probably think it means something. I mean we're all stuck in here together and sometimes we help each other out, that's all, it's no big deal."

Braden was busy pulling stuff out of drawers to get ready for bed—Clark noticed he didn't bother trying to keep that grin plastered on his face anymore.

"I'm sorry."

Braden whirled around. "For what?"

Clark shrugged, he knew this conversation was headed no where good. "I don't know, I just feel like I should apologize."

"Well obviously I should be the one apologizing."

"No, its not…. look Braden I'm not good at this. I mean the whole thing just confused me."

Braden laughed and there was nothing friendly about it. "You live in your head too much Clark. Always trying to put more weight to things than is needed. You were having issues and I decided to help you out, and I was just curious, that's all, it doesn't mean I want to run off and have ten of your babies."

Clark narrowed his eyes a bit, he could feel his own anger rising. "I guess I have a lot to learn then."

Braden went over and grabbed his toiletry bag off his dresser, mumbling. "Yeah, I guess you do."

He straightened up and looked at Clark, all pretense of friendliness was gone. "Oh, by the way, Jesse is really pissed. He used your absence to go on and on about what a jerk you are. Damon of course agreed, and Kennedy, well you know how Kennedy is, he doesn't really like anyone. Anyway, you probably shouldn't sit with us at breakfast tomorrow unless you want to deal with Jesse. I think you scared him a little, so I doubt he'll seek you out. I really am sorry Clark, but I tried."

Braden's gaze soften a little, but Clark knew he didn't have to bother to ask where Braden would be sitting in the morning. He just sighed and nodded.

"Thanks for the warning. I guess my days were numbered anyway."

Braden gave him a small sympathetic smile, then headed out the door, and Clark realized Braden couldn't stay mad at anyone for longer than five minutes. He fully expected him to just explode in a ball of stuffed down rage one day.

Clark stood and began yanking off his clothes in frustration. Clad in only his boxers, he decided to skip the nightly trip to the bathroom and just climbed into bed. If aliens could get headaches, he was sure he'd have one. Traipsing around Northern California with his parents was beginning to sound more and more appealing. But his father's words echoed in his head—"Quitting is a hard habit to break." He sighed heavily and wished for once he knew how to quit. He ran all the good things about the school in his head, remembering that he was starting research with Professor Luthor that week, which quelled the imaginary headache some.

By the time Braden came back, Clark was facing the window, pretending to be asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

True to their word, "the crew" made an ostentatious show of snubbing him the next morning at breakfast. As he made his way past their table, Jesse glared at him with such intensity it was almost comical. Damon smirked, and his eyes glinted with satisfaction over his fall from grace. Kennedy was more interested in his waffles and barely glanced in his direction, while Braden looked up sheepishly but quickly looked down towards his plate careful not to look up again. Gareth was the only one who looked at him with any sympathy, but his attention was diverted when Damon leaned over to say something to him.

He didn't know why it should bother him; he didn't even like them. But he still felt the sharp sting of the public humiliation, and he was now completely alone, the one thing he'd fought to avoid since his first day on campus. He made his way over to the single tables by the windows and sat down. Suddenly his plate piled high with waffles and eggs didn't seem so appealing. Clark dropped his fork on the tray and stared out the window trying to picture rolling hills with miles of grapes, instead of the large red oak that leaves were turning early. Like the melancholy teen he was turning into, all he could think about was that the leaves would be falling soon, not the brilliant color that lit up the dreary branches.

"May I join you?"

He was so engrossed in picturing dead leaves that he didn't even notice someone had approached his table. He didn't bother hiding his surprise at Professor Luthor standing in front of him, and for a fleeting moment he thought sitting with a teacher would do nothing to boost his plummeting popularity, but no one else was offering, so he smiled good-naturedly and gestured towards the empty chair.

"So what happened Clark? I see the crew is missing a member."

Clark looked down at his plate, suddenly embarrassed. He shrugged and looked at Lex through his lashes. "I was never a member really."

Lex eyed him, wishing he'd stop looking like a puppy someone just kicked. "But something did happen right? You usually sit with them."

Clark remained silent, and started cutting his waffles, hoping he wasn't coming off too rude. He just didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm sorry Professor Luthor, its nothing."

"I'm not really a professor yet, and its ok to tell me you don't want to talk about it."

Clark looked up with a slight smile. "I don't want to talk about it."

Lex returned his smile. "See? Now isn't the simple truth better?"

He nodded, his smile growing wider. "Sure you want to be seen with me? Its social suicide."

"I'll take my chances."

Lex watched as Clark's demeanor changed—the tautness in his shoulders eased and his face relaxed, as a hint of a smile remained in his eyes. He didn't know what happened to suddenly make him an outcast, but he knew from experience Clark probably needed someone on his side right now, even if it was a teacher.

Their conversation never ventured into anything too deep—they kept the questions polite and only skimmed the surface, but before long the barrier between teacher and student began to fall away, and it was easy for Lex to forget his position, and Clark to remember that Lex was really only 6 years his senior. The first bell of the day came all too soon, and Clark was surprised to find his plate empty and his mood lighter.

"You'd better hurry Clark, I know Professor Keller is hell on students who are late."

Clark laughed a little. "Unfortunately I have first hand knowledge of that." He grabbed his bag off the floor and swung onto his back, balancing his tray in the other hand.

"So, Clark, tomorrow—we'll meet at six in my office. You can eat dinner before if you like, but if you'll allow me, I'd like to provide dinner. I find it breaks the ice if you share a meal. Hope Indian is Ok."

Clark looked slightly alarmed. "I don't want you to go through any trouble, I can get food from the cafeteria."

"Clark, it's the least I can do. Your help is going to be invaluable to me, and its not like I can pay you."

His cheeks colored a little and he fought not to smile. "I may be no help at all, at least let me earn it before you start buying me dinner."

Lex just gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze. "I have no doubt you will. So I'll see you at tomorrow." He walked over to join the other staff exiting the dining hall.

Clark was still smiling to himself when Braden caught his eye. He looked at him with wide eyes and mouthed "sorry" before running to catch up with the other boys. He wanted to be angry, but his father always told him some people were just stronger than others. He shook it off and hurried off to class.

* * *

Apparently during classes where there was no sign of Jesse or Damon, Clark's outcast status was lifted. He and Gareth shared a chem lab, and in the absence of other crewmembers Gareth saw no reason to look for another lab partner. Clark was grateful because the only other student with shuffling lab partners barely maintained a D-average. The subject of his social demise was never broached until finally Gareth said dismissively.

"Jesse is an asshole."

Clark just nodded and kept measuring.

"You can't take all that stuff personally. He was just getting jealous of you, so it was only a matter of time before he found a reason to cast you out."

Clark tilted the green liquid into the blue and sighed a little. "Its ok Gareth, I don't expect you to risk having a miserable year on my behalf. I know Jesse is a jerk, so are most of those guys. And I didn't expect Braden to take my side. I know how much he hates confrontation. I'll be fine." He smiled a little, never taking his eyes away from the beaker. Braden's rejection hurt, though he'd never admit it.

Gareth just shook his head. "I'm an asshole for putting up with it."

Clark shrugged. "People do what they can, don't beat yourself up over it."

Gareth just looked over at Clark, still concentrating on getting their experiment perfect, and wondered how someone so decent landed at their school, and what he'd done to deserve being there.

"Well, maybe we can study for that killer exam next week."

Clark glanced over his shoulder at him, about to tell him he didn't have to try and make him feel better, but instead he just said "Sure", and continued working.

* * *

Being a social outcast wasn't as bad as he imagined. For the most part Jesse and everyone left him alone throughout the day, except for the occasional vicious looks, but they even gave that up when they could get no reaction out of him. Now they were reduced to making snide comments amongst themselves that he shouldn't be able to hear and therefore couldn't do anything about. All he could do is ignore their laughter and focus on his schoolwork. By lunchtime he'd grown tired of all of it and spent it in the library getting a head start on his 'urban studies' paper. For dinner, he again bypassed the dining hall completely, sneaking into town and getting a burger and fries at a local diner to go, and taking it back to his room. Running at full-speed in a still unfamiliar place was risky, but after skipping lunch, he was desperately craving some nourishment.

The dinner hour had barely started, so the dorms were still pretty deserted and eerily quiet. He finished his cheeseburger in three large bites and tried to think of something to relieve the solitude before finishing up his fries. He'd done all his homework and he'd read most of his textbooks ages ago. He thought about going for a long walk, but picked up his dv camcorder instead, realizing he hadn't send his parents a new message yet.

He didn't know what'd he say. After running to them so distraught he didn't want to give them more reason to worry.

He put it on the bed beside him and kicked off his shoes, tugging on his tie until it gave and fell to his feet. He flopped back on the bed, careful not to upset the camera, and knew his mood wasn't nearly light enough to conjure up a cheerful message. Maybe he should call Chloe, she always seemed to take him mind off of everything with her endless chatter. It'd be at least ten minutes into the conversation before she even realized something was wrong. Just has he began to fish around in his pocket for his cell phone the door opened. Braden walked in with a lot less bravado than he usually did, still avoiding direct eye contact with him.

Not having the patience for pretense, he sat up on the bed and looked at Braden.

"How come you're not at dinner?"

Braden dropped his bag on the bed, it was quite something to see Braden this quiet. "I went, but I didn't hang around. They were being all…well you know."

Clark nodded. "Yeah I know."

Braden removed his jacket and tie, throwing them on the floor like he usually did. "I swear Clark, maybe you got the better deal—you don't have to listen to their bullshit. You should have heard Jesse and Damon going on about their weekend. Such liars. And you have to hear what Jesse was saying about you! He actually said you backed down the other day on the lawn because you were afraid of him, can you believe that?! I swear you should kick his ass just because."

Clark smiled just a little, not being able to keep the terseness out of his voice, though he knew Braden was trying in his own special way.

"I'm not kicking anyone's ass. I don't care about those two." He wanted to add. "It only hurts when my friends reject me." But he just let it go.

Braden just nodded and finished removing the rest of his uniform. They sat on their respective beds silently, neither knowing what to say. The tension continued to grow and Clark contemplated that walk again.

"Clark?"

He looked up.

"I'm sorry, not about the stuff with Jesse..ok, I am sorry about that, but about the other night."

Clark was a little taken aback that he'd mentioned 'the incident'. He'd been trying not to think about it. All the questions it raised were too much on top of anything else—he'd been hoping like his raging hard-ons, it would just go away.

"You said it was no big deal…."

"I know, but you know grabbing some other guy's dick is usually a big deal, so I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that, but you were sitting there and no one else was around, you didn't stop me, so I just thought—anyway, I'm sorry."

Clark forced himself to meet his eyes, "Its Ok."

Braden just looked at him and raised his eyebrow.

"Ok, its not Ok, but I just…I mean I never had…no one had ever…" Clark could feel his blush spread down to his toes and he really wanted this conversation to be over with.

That impish grin appeared on Braden's face again, and Clark wanted to kick him.

"No one ever…you a virgin Clark?"

The way his eyes flew open in alarm, and his cheeks got even redder gave Braden his answer and his grin widened.

"Wow.."

Clark was getting annoyed. "Wow?"

"Well a guy like you, I just thought maybe you were just missing someone and your libido was out of whack...so…"

Then something occurred to Braden, and he stopped mid-sentence.

"Oh shit Clark, I'm sorry, I totally took advantage didn't I?"

"Just forget it."

"No, I'm sorry, really sorry."

Braden looked completely sincere, and Clark could already feel himself caving in. He didn't answer him, but his expression softened and Braden took that as forgiveness. He exhaled slowly and flopped back on the bed.

They returned to silently lounging on their beds, but the tension was gone. Clark was watching the evening sky turn from a bright indigo to a deep purple out his window and he wondered why this part of the day always left him feeling a little sad.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you."

"I know."

"No, I mean.."

"I know Braden."

"But you..?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You sure?"

Clark thought for a moment. "No…well, pretty sure."

Braden sighed. "Ok, fair enough."

Clark stood up to finish changing his clothes, and stopped worrying about whether Braden was watching him—he knew he was.

"Clark?"

"Yeah."

"Want to sneak off campus and get some pizza in town?"

His normal answer would be "No way." But normal didn't seem to apply to his life anymore, so he said "sure", despite his belly still being full of cheeseburger and fries.

Braden smiled and sprang off the bed, to start rummaging through his closet. "Oh and no wearing plaid. You're not really a fucking farmer."

The only response he received was a balled up blue tee smacking him in the head.

* * *

The overwhelming smell of curry and ginger filled his nostrils as he walked the deserted hall towards Professor Luthor's office, or 'Lex' as he'd be allowed to call him outside of class. He hadn't had a decent Indian dinner since he and his parents were in London last year, and he'd gorged himself on garlic naan and chicken korma.

Things seemed a lot brighter that day, and his mood wasn't as dark. He accepted Braden's shortcomings and knew he wasn't bold enough to turn his back on his friends, no matter how wrong they behaved and join Clark in his lonely plight. It did still bother him a little, but at least they'd be friends once they were back in their rooms, and now that he thought about it, not having to listen to the inane conversations at every meal wasn't exactly a bad thing.

They'd had fun going to get pizza, and getting off campus had be surprisingly easy since Braden knew of a space in the gate that was missing a few bars at the edge of the woods. He kept his car parked a couple of blocks from the main gates of school, apparently for a quick getaway. It was refreshing to hang out with Braden away from all the social drama at school. They were both a lot more relaxed and Braden was in rare form, having everyone within earsohot of them laughing or scowling. Clark had to admit he liked the reflected attention.

That morning they went their separate ways, with Clark choosing to reclaim his place in the dining hall and sitting with another group of boys that seemed to have no interest in Damon and his gang. It was weird at first to pretend Braden didn't exist, but once he started talking to the other boys, he was quickly forgotten. So his first meeting with Professor Luthor was a perfect ending to one of the first good days he'd had in a while.

The door was slightly ajar, but he knocked anyway out of politeness.

He heard a muffled "come in", and walked in. Lex was holding a white bag between his teeth and holding white styrofoam containers in each hand. He dropped the bag in his mouth on the table, placed the containers, down and smiled brightly at Clark, waving him in.

"Hope you like naan, I got lots of it."

"Love it." He dropped his bag on a chair and waited as Lex opened all the containers, explaining each dish.

"…and Chicken tiki marsala, my favorite so you'll have to fight me for it…lamb vindaloo, chicken korma, vegetable biryani, and some onion bhaji if you're game."

Clark walked over and immediately grabbed a piece of garlic naan, and sniffed at the chicken korma. Lex laughed. "I'll get us some plates."

It was really strange seeing Lex dressed down. He wore a simple gray sweater, dark pants and what Clark recognized as Prada sneakers. He glanced down at his own attire of jeans, dark blue sweater, and worn Nikes, and wondered if Lex even owned any jeans, or maybe wearing jeans was inappropriate since this was kind of a job. He thought about zipping back to his dorm and changing before Lex returned with the plates, but then explaining a change of clothes would be impossible. Clark really wished he didn't think so much.

"Have a seat. We'll eat while we work if that's ok. Did you read over the outline I gave you?"

Clark spooned out some Chicken marsala and lamb vindaloo, trying to forget about a possible dress code. "It's been so long since I've had good Indian food…and yes, I read it over. I like that you don't jump in with business jargon right away, and talk about how your business should be a reflection of your life and lifestyle. I really like that idea."

Lex smiled. "You should, I'm sure its pretty much how you were raised."

Clark had never really thought about it in those terms before. The business was so ingrained into their daily lives, he almost didn't think of it as being a separate entity. As a kid he'd spent just as much time hanging around the office, which was really his father's family farm, as he did their own home. They'd always been interchangeable to him. And the food on their table always came directly from the working farm or plant. Even family vacations they took were always a way for his parents to increase their knowledge somehow.

"Do you mind if I show my parents what we're working on? Nothing major, just some notes or something. I know my Dad would really love what you're doing."

Lex tried to keep his enthusiasm in check—he'd been hoping working with Clark would lead to some input from his family. "I'd be honored if you showed your parents. I know I've said this too many times before, but I really admire what they've built."

Clark beamed and grabbed his third piece of naan, making Lex laugh a little. "Cool, and I'm sure my Dad might have some additional insight, if that's ok."

"Perfect. And Clark, do you think you could leave some food for me?"

Clark looked alarmed and quickly put back the piece of naan. Lex didn't bother to hold back and he burst out laughing at the blush spreading fast on Clark's cheeks.

"I'm sorry Clark, I was just kidding. Eat as much as you want, I know you poor guys have to suffer the cafeteria food and its limited cuisine everyday. I have more."

Clark narrowed his eyes, and bit back a pout, making Lex remember suddenly why he'd been worried about working alone with Clark. Then he grinned mischievously.

"In that case…." Clark reached across the table and grabbed the last of the chicken tiki, and they both started laughing.

Once the various curries were exhausted they focused on working. Clark was surprised he understood more about business than he realized and was relieved he could actually help Lex. Before they knew it, it was ten minutes before curfew.

"Shit! Sorry, you didn't hear that Clark. You only have ten minutes before they lock the dorms, you'd better run."

He couldn't believe it was almost nine already. "Its ok, they never lock up right at nine, I'll be fine walking back."

"You sure?"

He nodded. "Thanks again for dinner, this hardly seems like work at all. I swear it's the first time in my life I actually thought business was interesting."

"That's quite the compliment, thank you."

Clark threw his notebook and laptop into his bag. "I should help you clean up."

Lex walked over to him and steered him towards the door. "No, I got it, besides I'll get in trouble if I keep you out after curfew."

He kept gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "You were a great help Clark, I'll see you in class, and back here Tuesday, ok?"

Clark nodded, smiling brightly, and Lex kept his hand on his shoulder long enough for Clark's smile to falter a little. Alarmed, Lex was careful not to jerk his hand away, but removed it casually with a small slap on the back.

The smooth rhythm of the evening was off now and Lex could have kicked himself. Clark hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and nodded with a small smile.

"Thanks again, Lex. I had a great time. I'd better run."

Lex said his goodbyes and shut the door behind him. He packed up the empty containers, throwing them into the bin as hard as he could, kicking the trash can in frustration. Maybe he was overreacting. All he did was touch his shoulder, and his arm a little, that's not such a huge deal. He'd just been taken off guard by the firmness of his arm, and the obvious muscles beneath the sweater. Clark was a very tall, but somewhat lanky kid, always swathed in a school blazer, so the firm body underneath was a surprise. That was still no excuse—if he was going to continue working with Clark, he'd need to get his impulses under control. Lex sighed and picked up the upturned trashcan, knowing he was in for a long restless night.

* * *

Clark sprinted across the lawn at normal speed, wanting a moment to shake the odd feeling he had as he was leaving Lex's office. He knew the last week had just made him a little hypersensitive, and he must have imagined the way Lex looked at him. Why would he look at him the same way Braden did? It was completely absurd. By the time he walked into his room, he was almost laughing at how ridiculous the whole idea was.


	7. Chapter 7

A small red oval shape flew past Clark's head and landed beside him on the bed. He was stretched out with feet propped against the headboard trying to ignore the flying orb and pushed it away from him. Three more landed in the middle of his open schoolbook, this time followed by a small chuckle. Clark ignored the laughter and picked up all four peanut M&Ms and popped them in his mouth.

"Stop it Braden."

He heard the bed groan as Braden leaped off of it and stood over him.

"Its Sunday afternoon Clark, why are you studying?"

Clark reached his hand out for more M&Ms without looking up and Braden emptied the rest of the bag into his outstretched hand.

"Because we have these things called midterms coming up pretty soon."

"So?"

Clark just shook his head; he knew how dangerous Braden could be when he was bored. "So…I'm studying, and if you had any sense at all you'd be too."

"Like you need to study anyway."

Clark felt the familiar panic rise his chest as he quickly ran through his head every time he'd studied in front of Braden, trying to make sure he hadn't turn the pages too quickly or wrote answers down too fast.

He kept his voice deliberately calm and shoved the handful of candy into his mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Braden sat next to him, pushing him over to give himself room. "Meaning, His Lord Baldness wouldn't dare fail you."

Clark looked up puzzled. "This isn't for Professor Luthor's class, and why wouldn't he fail me."

"You're so clueless sometimes."

Clark closed his book and sat up with his back against the window. The torrential rainstorm was still coming down and grey skies always put Clark in a melancholy state and he definitely wasn't in the mood for one of Braden's infamous gossip sessions.

He sighed. "How am I clueless?"

"Baldy likes you."

"Stop calling him baldy, and he likes most of the students."

Braden grinned. "Yeah, but he likes you best."

He had an idea where Braden was going with this— he'd been hinting at it since he started working with Lex. They were only supposed to work two evenings a week but Clark enjoyed their time together so much and everything he was learning that he always volunteered extra time. Braden had been acting weird about it, almost resentful and he couldn't pin point exactly why—was it jealousy?

"No he doesn't, I'm just his research assistant."

Braden climbed over Clark and sat against his headboard. "Believe what you want, but he thinks you're pretty. I've heard things about his lifestyle before he came here, so I'd watch my back if I were you, and I mean that literally."

Clark was getting angry, "Shut up Braden."

"Hey I'm just trying to warn you. My brother used to see him around Metropolis, and lets just say…."

"I don't want to hear it Ok? Lex is a good guy and I don't care what he did in Metropolis, besides its funny that  _you're_  the one trying to warn me."

He knew that would make Braden leave him alone, and it worked. Braden hopped off his bed obviously pissed. "You sure know how to hold a grudge Kent."

"I'm not, I'm just saying I don't care, like I don't care what you do—we're friends."

Braden didn't answer him, and he knew what he was thinking. Lately he'd been wrestling with the idea that he may actually be gay. He'd say random things at odd times, and Clark tried to reassure him, though he didn't know what to say—aside from that, for all he knew he could be in the same boat soon. All he could do was draw on his own experience of being different from everyone else. At least, he thought, Braden wouldn't have to hide forever.

Braden glared at him from across the room, "If you don't care, then why keep bringing it up?"

Clark returned the glare. "Its not my job to make you feel better about what happened."

He picked up his book and started reading, hoping the conversation was over. Any talk of Lex's sexual preference seemed to be a hot button for him. Its not like he cared, he really didn't, but he couldn't help remembering the first research session they had and the way he looked at him. Since then there seemed to be some invisible physical barrier around Clark that Lex wouldn't cross. Too many times he'd heard Lex's chair scrape across the old wood when he'd leaned in to close to look at something he'd written. Maybe he was just afraid Clark would get the wrong idea, or maybe he was just thinking too much as always.

"Braden?"

"What."

"I'm sorry, you want to…." He glanced out the window, the rain was turning to hail; there was no way they were going outside. "…watch me beat you at Tekken?"

Braden had stashed a Playstation and TV in the back of their closet hidden inside a plain brown box marked "clothes", Clark didn't know how he passed weekly room inspection. He waited for Braden to take the bait, knowing he'd rarely pass up an opportunity to go one-on-one with him in any game. Finally a smile cracked that thin icy façade he wore and he was on his feet digging in the closet to pull out the console.

Clark joined him on the floor as he set up the game; grateful that Braden's moods were as fleeting as an evening breeze.

"Now prepare to have your ass kicked Kent."

Clark smiled and picked up his controller. Braden had this habit of sitting a little too close to him when they played, but Clark didn't mind—it felt comfortable, like they were old friends, and he missed having that.

* * *

They awoke the next morning to a ground covered in snowy ice, the result of a relentless hailstorm mix with snow that pounded the windows well into the night. Already boys were grabbing handfuls of the icy mess and tossing it at unsuspecting heads, and Clark had to dodge a few on his way to class. The excitement of the coming holiday season was tangible all around them with everyone discussing too loudly their elaborate plans for winter break. Clark was especially excited because his parents arranged a full week of skiing for him and his closest friends, Chloe and Pete, over the New Years holiday in Colorado. They'd all be sharing a chalet, but his parents promised not to interfere too much as long as they behaved. He was going to surprise them both with the news at Christmas, though his parents had already gotten permission from their parents.

As he trudged along to his first class, the stress of earlier in the year seemed like a distant memory. The crew continued to be an annoyance, but they kept their distance unless Jesse was feeling extra brave and wanted to impress Damon, then he'd taunt Clark at a safe distance—Clark usually ignored him. With everyone starting their independent studies he and Kennedy ended up sharing a study period. Clark discovered Kennedy was just indifferent about everything; it was just his way, and if Clark was in earshot he didn't mind talking to him. Gareth was slowly becoming friendlier during school hours, but Braden continued to ignore him, though they behaved like best friends in the privacy of their room. Clark didn't care—Braden was Braden and there was nothing to be done about it.

He quickened his pace, hoping to make it to economics before the other students. He'd discussed a few things with his parents on the phone last night and wanted to mention it to Lex and he didn't feel like waiting until they met later that evening. Plus they were getting their pre-midterm test back—the test was one third of their grade. Lex said the school's faculty controlled the midterms, but this test was directly from him and he held it in higher regard. Clark studied for two weeks straight for the test, and Lex refused to even mention in their sessions together to keep things fair. He'd maintained a straight-A average since he started school, but even he admitted Lex's test was incredibly challenging, so he was anxious to see how he did.

The bell rang before Clark arrived at the door, and people were already heading in—he'd have to remember to get his watch fixed. Everyone's pace was noticeably slower as they filed into class. Lex stood at the head looking a little annoyed with a stack of papers in his hands.

"Sit quickly, I know most of you want to get this over with."

There was a rumbling of audible groans as everyone took their seats. Lex started down the aisle handing out papers as he went. Very few faces looked happy.

"I have to say I was disappointed with the results as a whole. Only one person managed to get an A, and that was Clark Kent."

Lex punctuated his remark by placing Clark's perfectly scored paper on his desk. There were a few grumblings and snickers and Clark could feel his cheeks burning.

Jesse was the most vocal, saying just loud enough for him to hear "Big shock Luthor's little pet boy got an A"

Unfortunately for Jesse, Lex heard too. "What was that Jesse?"

He mumbled, "Nothing." But Lex continued.

"Maybe if you worry less about Clark and more about actually studying you'd get better grades—yours was probably the most abysmal in the class."

There was a small outburst of laughter, and Lex knew he had gone too far. It was completely unprofessional to embarrass a student like that. How personally he took any negative remarks towards Clark was beginning to show and he needed to be careful. The look on Clark's face told him he should have kept his mouth shut—he was the only one aside from Jesse not laughing.

Clark wished suddenly that all classrooms came with trap doors, or at the very least a black hole. He had no idea why Lex decided to challenge Jesse on his behalf, but no good could come of it. He was quiet throughout the rest of class, and thankfully Lex didn't call on him once. He walked out of class as soon as the bell sounded without a glance in Lex's direction. He'd had enough attention for one day, though everyone had probably forgotten about it by now—except for Jesse. The murderous look Jesse shot him after Lex called him out said it all. Clark knew his peaceful existence at Excelsior was about to change.

* * *

The skies continued to darken and Clark began to wonder if he was somehow connected with the earth, since it always seemed to mirror his mood. He felt completely distracted throughout the day and he was reprimanded twice for not paying attention in class, much to the delight of Jesse and Damon who shared his European history class. He wondered how delighted they'd be if he punched them both in the face. The anger he felt shocked him, but he was just sick of them and sick of everything.

By the time lunch period arrived he contemplated skipping his afternoon classes altogether, but Excelsior gave a stiff penalty to anyone who skipped a class. He wondered if he could alter his body temperature enough to fake a fever. He was just about to test the theory when a large ball of ice soared past him, missing his nose by inches. He looked up just in time for another iceball to land squarely in his face, followed by the very loud laughing and howling of Jesse and Damon. Without thinking Clark reached down and picked up a large mound of ice and formed into a ball quicker than anyone could see and in a blind rage through it directly at Jesse. He knew he was probably the only one who heard the crack when the ice made contact with Jesse's nose, but he was sure people in China could hear Jesse's outraged screaming. The sound of Jesse calling Clark every name he could conjure while blood streamed down his face, brought faculty running out from every direction.

Professor Cheever reached Jesse first, pulling him to his feet and grabbing his own handkerchief to try and stop the bleeding. Clark stood there rooted on the spot, watching everything in front of him like it was some slow moving nightmare. Jesse wasted no time fingering him as the culprit, and Clark was summoned over by another professor immediately. But he couldn't seem to move.

"Kent! Get over here now!"

Reality rushed back in and Clark took his first tentative step towards the mayhem. Damon was excitedly telling the story of how Clark maliciously hurt Jesse without provocation. That wasn't exactly true, but with Clark's own unblemished face and Jesse's now covered in blood, he didn't think anyone would believe him.

The Professor leveled at him a look that made him feel like he was the vilest person to ever walk the earth.

"While they take Jesse to the hospital, you are going with me to the Dean's office right now. He'll be calling your parents—as you know injuring another student is grounds for immediate expulsion, you'd better pray the Dean is feeling generous today."

Clark followed the professor silently while a million things ran through is head—all them making his stomach lurch. If he could actually get sick without the aid of meteor rock, he was sure the contents of his breakfast would be all over the ground. His parents would be livid, he knew it, and worse than that, they'd be incredibly disappointed, something he couldn't bear. How had life changed so quickly in under thirty seconds? When they reached the administration building his feet suddenly felt leaden. He stared at the small flight of marble stairs like they were an open molten pit that led directly to hell below. No one could possibly expect him to move with that looming ahead.

"Hurry up Mr. Kent, don't keep the Dean waiting on top of everything else."

Clark wondered how he could keep the Dean waiting if he didn't even know they were coming, but he thought it best to keep that to himself. He followed the professor hoping he made it to the door.

The Dean's suite was just as he pictured it—all mahogany and oppression with the least amount of light possible. He felt for his secretary who was shrouded in darkness except for the small tiffany lamp at her imposing desk. She looked a little puzzled to see them, and the Professor pointed Clark towards a stiff leather chair in the corner while he explained. He watched the change of expression as the Professor relayed the story, and she darted a look in his direction that was full of dismay while she quickly got up from her desk and headed towards the Dean's office. Clark slumped down in the chair, knowing the worse was still to come.

The professor went in first, indicating for Clark to stay where he was. They were in there a long time, and the waiting was slowly torturing him. Finally the Professor came out and held the door open for Clark silently—this couldn't be good.

"Have a seat Mr. Kent."

Clark looked like a deer caught in headlights and he felt all the color drain from his face. He sat in the small chair opposite the Dean and waited.

"Professor Miller has explained what happened from what he could tell, and we got a call from Professor Luthor who apparently saw the entire incident from his window. He vouched for you and relayed that it was the other boys who threw a snowball at you first, and you were merely retaliating. But unfortunately for you, you've caused serious injury to a fellow student. Why I don't doubt it was an accident, the fact that all of you have been repeatedly told about the dangers of engaging in such activity leaves me little choice but to seek some disciplinary action."

Clark just stared at the tall stained glass windows framing the Dean's head, the red fractured light making him look eerily like a monster from a child's nightmare.

"I've spoken with your parents, and told them you are to leave campus this evening if possible. They're flying here on the next available flight. Until they arrive, you are to stay here, outside my office, and then you can go with your parents to get some things. I'm suspending you for five days pending an expulsion hearing. Given your history with the school, and exemplary track record, expulsion isn't likely. My feeling is you got caught in a bad situation and maybe next time you'll think twice before acting out of anger. You can go, just wait outside and my secretary will show you to another room where you'll be more comfortable for the next few hours."

Clark rose from the chair, anxious to get out of that room.

"Thank you sir."

The Dean looked at him sympathetically for the first time. "Thank Professor Luthor—he really went to bat for you."

Clark nodded and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. The thought of what his parents would say, especially his father who'd drilled into him since he was old enough to understand what they were saying, the importance of being extra careful with everyone, of not letting his anger get the better of him, made a lump form in his throat. But he wasn't going to sit there and cry like some five year old. He'd made this incredible mess and he'd just have to deal with it without giving into self-pity.

After sitting silently in the corner for a few minutes, he asked the secretary if he could go to the bathroom, and she gave him a key to the in suite bath. Once inside he splashed cold water on his face so he wouldn't have to see the tears he knew were coming. So much for being brave.


	8. Chapter 8

The room they ushered him in to wait for his parents to arrive, looked like some sort of conference room that was trying very hard not to resemble one. The oppressive mahogany theme carried over and the walls were lined with rows and rows of books, most of them classic novels and books on the history of the area and the school. Clark sat in the only overstuffed chair next to the window and tried to read, but it was like the paintings of head masters past aligning the far walls were all looking at him in disgust.

How could he have let things go so far? Obviously the constant chiding from Jesse bothered him a lot more than he realized, and he shouldn't have let it go on so long without saying anything. Now Jesse had a legitimate reason to be hostile towards him, and he had reason to feel guilty. But it wasn't Jesse he was worried about at the moment even though he felt incredibly horrible about what he did—he also knew it could have been so much worse and lucky for him, his natural reflex—born of so many years of being careful—was to hold back.

He pulled a book off the shelf hoping reading would stop him from thinking about his parent's arrival. He fingered the cell phone in his pocket. It was probably telling that neither of his parents had attempted to call him yet, or maybe they didn't want him breaking anymore rules—you weren't allowed to use your cell outside of the dorms. He placed the book back on the shelf, since it was hopeless, and just slumped down further in the chair and watched the sun move across the sky. By the time it finally descended his fate would be decided.

* * *

Sometimes x-ray vision came in handy. Clark woke with a start when he heard his parent's voices in the other room. Somewhere into hour four of sitting in the same spot not moving, he'd fallen asleep for lack of anything better to do. He couldn't decide if he could trust the tone of their voices, so he decided to peak through the walls to see their faces. It was not good—his father had that stern immovable look to his face, and his mother's brow was creased with worry and disappointment—well, at least he'd be prepared. He was standing very still next to the chair when the Dean opened the door allowing his parents to enter before him.

"I thought it'd be better if we talked in here, there's not really enough seating in my office."

He stood there unsure if he should hug them or not, maybe they were too angry with him, but despite being scared he was glad to see them. The Dean ushered his parents over to the table silently and pulled out chairs—the tension in the room was overwhelming. For the first time he really didn't know how to behave around them.

"Take a seat Clark." The Dean finally broke the silence. He looked at his Dad, who was definitely wearing his 'stern dad face'.

"Dad? I…"

"Sit down Clark."

"I'm sorry we're meeting under such unpleasant circumstances, and I know you two are very busy so I appreciate you taking time to meet with me. Clark, as you know, has been an exemplary student, and judging by his records this has always been the case. So I find the incident a little troubling. The boys involved are often a disciplinary problem so I can imagine Clark found himself goaded into retaliating, which is why I've decided not to expel him. I still however, must treat the matter very seriously."

His father glanced sideways at him and Clark lowered his eyes to the table. He had no desire to feel worse than he already did. As if sensing this, his father reached over and gave his hand a firm squeeze while they continued to listen to the Dean.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we'd actually like to hear what happened from Clark."

Clark looked over at his mother and she smiled only slightly. She'd noticed the Dean had just been handing down edicts without once glancing in Clark's direction, and she knew her son—she knew Clark felt like a tiny speck engulfed by his own guilt.

"Yes of course Mrs. Kent. But Professor Miller and Professor Luthor both concurred that it wasn't unprovoked."

"Still, I think he deserves a chance to speak on his own behalf. Go on Clark."

He was perfectly fine not saying anything, he mostly just wanted this to end quickly, and he couldn't be sure he'd shown full constraint when attacking Jesse.

"Thanks Mom…I, well I was walking from class, and I saw something fly past my head, and when I looked up to see what it was, a snow ball hit me in the face. Jesse was standing by the science building laughing with Damon and some other boys holding another snow ball in his hand. I wasn't thinking I swear, I was just so angry and I just picked up a snow ball and threw it at him. I didn't mean to throw it so hard, I wasn't aiming at his face, I wasn't really thinking at all. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen, and I feel horrible I broke his nose. I really am sorry."

His father reached over and gave his shoulder and strong squeeze and whispered "Its ok Clark." He didn't realize he was shaking a little.

The Dean gave Clark a genuine smile. "I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone Clark, but it's a hard lesson we all have to learn—actions have consequences, especially ones made from haste and anger. You'll have five days to think about that."

His mother frowned. "You're suspending him for five days then? And what disciplinary actions are being taken against the other boy?"

The Dean looked puzzled. "While Jesse was certainly in the wrong, we all agree that a broken nose is punishment enough."

His mother's eyes narrowed. "And what will be done to protect Clark from any retaliation?"

"Any further action from any boys will be dealt with I promise you. Now I need Clark to leave the campus following this meeting—it's just school policy. He can return to school a week from today."

"I thought you said just five days."

"Yes, but that's five school days. Today is Wed, so he'll be returning to class next Thursday." The Dean stood up indicating the meeting was over.

"You can go with Clark to his dorm to pack some things, and again, I appreciate you coming on such short notice. You have no idea how hard it is sometimes to track parents down."

They rose and the Dean gave Clark a small smile as he walked past him. The experience wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was quick and he didn't have to say too much, but as he walked beside his parents back to his dorm, he knew the hard part hadn't even started yet.

 

* * *

 

Back at the dorms, they were all business. His mother immediately took his suitcase out of the closet and began packing his street clothes asking which ones were dirty or clean, shaking her head at not being able to tell the difference. His father just looked around his tiny room—it was their first time seeing it. By the time he'd gathered his books and laptop, his father had declared his room "no worse than his dorm in college," and sat down the bed next to him as his mother finished packing.

"Where are we going?"

"We were in Portland when the Dean phoned—in the middle of an important meeting actually. I can only hope they'll allow us to reschedule."

Clark felt his chest sink. "I'm really sorry Dad."

His father stood up and paced. "Clark I don't know what to do here. I know you're not entirely to blame for this, but unfortunately you can't let your emotions get the best of you like other boys, the consequences are too dire. You could have seriously hurt him Clark, a lot more seriously than you did."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I wish I could trust that, I really do."

Clark was getting frustrated now and got to his feet. "You don't know how hard its been just keeping my mouth shut and trying to stay out of trouble. I could have hurt him worse Dad, I know that, but I didn't, I held back, even when I got angry, I held back. I always do, I have to."

"Clark you shouldn't have thrown it in the first place you know that. Guys like Jesse just push your buttons, trying to make you lose your temper. You can't let him Clark, you can't afford to. I know it's not fair, but your gifts come with more responsibility and there's just no way to change that."

"They don't feel like gifts."

His mother closed his suitcase and sat on the bed, pulling him to sit beside her.

"I'm sure they don't feel like gifts right now, but any part of you is a gift, and now is not the time to start feeling sorry for yourself. I know this is hard and frustrating, but I'm sorry Clark, life sometimes is. I wish we could make this better for you and tell you its all Ok. It will be eventually, but you still did something wrong and there has to be consequences. Your father and I talked about it, and we've decided to cancel the ski trip."

Clark jumped up. "What? But that's just punishing Chloe and Pete too, they didn't do anything!"

His father put a firm hand on his shoulder, "Lower your voice Clark, and Pete and Chloe didn't know about the trip yet, so they won't be missing anything. We'd love for you to have that time with your friends, but you're just going to have to spend time with them in boring old Smallville."

His looked towards his mother for help. "I'm sorry honey, but our decision is final."

Could things get any worse? He was certain they could, but he didn't think tempting fate right now was a good idea. He fell silent and walked over and picked up his suitcase. He was so angry he couldn't find his voice. His mother was right, self-pity wasn't the answer right now, but it sure felt like the answer. He walked towards the door, saying he would wait by the car, but his parents just followed him down. Eventually they each put an arm around his shoulder, and though he wanted to shrug them off, a small part of him was grateful for the comfort.

* * *

Lex watched Clark walk across the campus with his parents. He was a little surprised they each had an arm around him; he'd have thought they'd be angrier with him. But he had a feeling Clark's parents rarely stayed mad at him for long. Clark did look very upset though, even from his vantage point. He was sure now he'd made the right decision calling the Dean on Clark's behalf. He'd gone to his window when heard the commotion and saw Jesse's nose streaming with blood and a very angry Professor Miller yelling at Clark. He found out what happened from another student and various bits he could make out from Jesse's angry friends. He didn't have to see it to know Jesse caused the incident, and Clark was just protecting himself. Jesse was a prick and a bully and as far as Lex was concerned he'd gotten exactly what he deserved.

True, he shouldn't have displayed his distaste of Jesse so openly and he was certain that incident it what spurned the rest of the days events, and for he was truly sorry. Clark always tried to stay under the radar he noticed and now he was the talk of the school. Lex often wondered how someone so tall and so striking thought they could walk around unnoticed, but he doubted Clark had any idea the impression he made. The whole thing was proving to be a real problem for Lex. He both dreaded and eagerly anticipated their work together. Each time as they became more and more relaxed with each other, it just made things that much harder. He'd hoped once he got to know him some of the mystique would be gone and that shiny perfect veneer he wore would become tarnished. But the more he learned about Clark the more he liked him.

He had an easy smile and an easy laugh, and a dry sense of humor if he was in the right mood. He talked about Smallville and his parents often, so much so, Lex was sure he'd recognize his best friends Chloe or Pete or even the girl he'd mentioned once or twice that he once had a crush on. Lex was intrigued by this confirmation of this heterosexuality, and pressed the issue just the bit under the guise of teasing. But all Clark did was smile a little and shrug saying, "reality is never quite the same as the fantasy if you know what I mean, besides I don't think about her much anymore, and being away from Smallville has made me realize a few things"

Lex wondered if this girl had been his first, and the experience had been disappointing, and when he asked, Clark blushed ferociously.

"Oh! No, no…she wasn't my first, I mean I haven't…no, she definitely wasn't my first."

Lex smiled. "So there were others before her?"

Clark put his head down and looked up through his lashes—Lex really wished he wouldn't do that.

"There haven't been any", he said quietly.

Lex bit his lip hard and commanded his body to behave. Of course he'd be a virgin.

When he trusted himself to speak, he tried to make Clark feel at ease. "You're only sixteen Clark, that's certainly nothing to be embarrassed about."

Clark looked up and smirked a little. "I know, I mean I'm not embarrassed. I'm in no hurry. I'd rather be in love first—corny huh?"

Lex placed a hand affectionately on his head, then gave it a shove before the moment became too intimate. "Not corny at all, completely fitting with all things Clark Kent—now enough sex talk, we only a half hour left before you have to leave."

They'd gone back to working easy enough, but Lex thoughts would not behave. There was no doubt he should not be thinking such things about a young student who was fast becoming one his best friends.

Now as he watched Clark climb into the backseat of his parent's rental car, he was grateful for the welcome reprieve and hoped by the time Clark returned he'd have his thoughts and actions under control.


	9. Chapter 9

Lex watched Clark walk across the campus with his parents. He was a little surprised they each had an arm around him; he'd have thought they'd be angrier with him. But he had a feeling Clark's parents rarely stayed mad at him for long. Clark did look very upset though, even from his vantage point. He was sure now he'd made the right decision calling the Dean on Clark's behalf. He'd gone to his window when heard the commotion and saw Jesse's nose streaming with blood and a very angry Professor Miller yelling at Clark. He found out what happened from another student and various bits he could make out from Jesse's angry friends. He didn't have to see it to know Jesse caused the incident, and Clark was just protecting himself. Jesse was a prick and a bully and as far as Lex was concerned he'd gotten exactly what he deserved.

True, he shouldn't have displayed his distaste of Jesse so openly and he was certain that incident it what spurned the rest of the days events, and for he was truly sorry. Clark always tried to stay under the radar he noticed and now he was the talk of the school. Lex often wondered how someone so tall and so striking thought they could walk around unnoticed, but he doubted Clark had any idea the impression he made. The whole thing was proving to be a real problem for Lex. He both dreaded and eagerly anticipated their work together. Each time as they became more and more relaxed with each other, it just made things that much harder. He'd hoped once he got to know him some of the mystique would be gone and that shiny perfect veneer he wore would become tarnished. But the more he learned about Clark the more he liked him.

He had an easy smile and an easy laugh, and a dry sense of humor if he was in the right mood. He talked about Smallville and his parents often, so much so, Lex was sure he'd recognize his best friends Chloe or Pete or even the girl he'd mentioned once or twice that he once had a crush on. Lex was intrigued by this confirmation of this heterosexuality, and pressed the issue just the bit under the guise of teasing. But all Clark did was smile a little and shrug saying, "reality is never quite the same as the fantasy if you know what I mean, besides I don't think about her much anymore, and being away from Smallville has made me realize a few things"

Lex wondered if this girl had been his first, and the experience had been disappointing, and when he asked, Clark blushed ferociously.

"Oh! No, no…she wasn't my first, I mean I haven't…no, she definitely wasn't my first."

Lex smiled. "So there were others before her?"

Clark put his head down and looked up through his lashes—Lex really wished he wouldn't do that.

"There haven't been any", he said quietly.

Lex bit his lip hard and commanded his body to behave. Of course he'd be a virgin.

When he trusted himself to speak, he tried to make Clark feel at ease. "You're only sixteen Clark, that's certainly nothing to be embarrassed about."

Clark looked up and smirked a little. "I know, I mean I'm not embarrassed. I'm in no hurry. I'd rather be in love first—corny huh?"

Lex placed a hand affectionately on his head, then gave it a shove before the moment became too intimate. "Not corny at all, completely fitting with all things Clark Kent—now enough sex talk, we only a half hour left before you have to leave."

They'd gone back to working easy enough, but Lex thoughts would not behave. There was no doubt he should not be thinking such things about a young student who was fast becoming one his best friends.

Now as he watched Clark climb into the backseat of his parent's rental car, he was grateful for the welcome reprieve and hoped by the time Clark returned he'd have his thoughts and actions under control.

* * *

Clark had always been a good kid—he could probably count on one hand how many times he'd seriously been in trouble in his life, so having both his parents so visibly angry at him was unnerving. His mother would be the first to give in, while his Dad would remain stoic at least until lunch time the next day. They both decided not to stay in Metropolis and the three of them boarded a plane back to Portland that night. 

He was given his own room with strict orders that he was not to leave the hotel unless accompanied by one of them. He hated being cooped up all day, but he imagined there were worst places to spend your punishment than in a 5-star suite in the middle of a gorgeous place like Portland. Besides, if he decided to step out to the coffee place up the street while his parents were in meetings, he didn't see what harm could come of it. Clark leaned back in the overstuffed chair, balancing his laptop on one knee while downing the last of his latte. Braden had been sending him emails whenever he'd gotten a free moment it seemed; most of them were no more than a sentence or two, and pretty damn cryptic even by Braden standards. The last one left him scratching his head:

_The teams are dividing Kent, I think in your favor._

_-Out, Braden._

He replied with a simple. _"Huh?"_ and hit send.

He'd gotten one email from Lex, or Professor Luthor, depending on how familiar he was feeling that day. It made him feel good that at least someone of importance was on his side.

_Clark,_

_Sorry I couldn't see you before you left. But I just wanted you to know that everything is fine. We've all gone to bat for you and looks like you won't be getting out of mid-terms quite that easily. See you soon._

_L._

For some reason he was reluctant to tell his parents Lex had emailed him. He wasn't sure what they'd think of Lex sending him a personal email-not that he thought it was inappropriate, but he didn't think now was a good time to test the theory. Regardless, the email made him smile. If it wasn't for his work with Professor Luthor, he wasn't sure he'd even want to return to school, though he would miss Braden. There was something infectious about his insane roommate that even when he felt like killing him he could still find a way to forgive him. Considering what happened between them, that was no easy task. He wanted the whole incident to stay deep in the recesses of his brain, but every morning when he woke with a raging hard on, or felt a familiar warmth in his belly whenever he heard Braden moaning softly and the covers shifting in the middle of the night, his mind immediately traveled back to that night by the lake. He'd tried to rationalize it over and over, but when it came down to it, Braden had aroused him and he enjoyed it. So what did that mean exactly? Did boys get aroused by other boys and still like girls?

He desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, anything to ease his mind a bit, but something told him his father would only be uncomfortable with the whole conversation. Maybe Lex? He sighed-yeah, exactly how would that conversation begin? "Excuse me, Professor, but I think I might be gay, could I run a few scenarios by you to see if I am or not?" Clark crumpled his empty latte cup in his hand and pitched it out the open balcony door, and shut his laptop in frustration. He glanced at his watch-his parents would return soon and then they'd all go out to dinner, and Clark would pretend that he was incredibly relieved to be out of his room for the first time all day.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was amazing, and the conversation was so easy and light it seemed like all was forgiven and they were slowly getting back to normal, until just before entering his room his father not so politely reminded him to go straight to bed, and he'd still be confined to his room the next day. Without thinking he shot his father a dirty look that he hoped would go unnoticed-of course not.

His father motioned for his mother to keep going, and she smiled slightly and shook her head at Clark and disappeared into their suite.

"Clark, we've been through this."

"So no need to go over it again." He winced the minute the words left his mouth.

His father looked at him sternly. "Get inside."

Clark obediently entered his room, and his father followed. He sat down in the nearest chair and looked at his father, regretting taking a submissive position so quickly.

"Look, I'm sorry I looked at you that way, but I don't need a lecture about it. I mean don't you think you're overreacting a little?"

"No I don't Clark, because I'm starting to wonder if you really understand what's going on here. Are you under the impression that you shouldn't be punished for what happened?"

Now that he mentioned it...but Clark shook his head 'no'.

"Really?"

Clark thought his head would explode if he had to listen to another lecture given in that same damn stern, but calm voice-it wasn't fair, none of it was. He ran his hand through his hair hard, nearly yanking out a few strands.

"Clark?"

He looked at him tensely "I didn't do anything wrong Dad."

His father nodded like he'd been expecting that response, and Clark turned away, trying to deny the sudden hostility he felt towards his father.

His father pulled up the other chair to face him and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"But you did Clark, and you have to understand that. I need to be able to trust you in order to send you back there. Your mother and I were talking, and we're starting to think maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but we don't want to encourage you to give up. At the same time, we have a bigger more important issue to consider, and thats your secret."

Clark went to protest but his Dad waved his hand. "Let me finish. If we thought for a moment any part of our lives compromised your safety, we'd change it. If having the stores risked exposing you in anyway, I'd sell them. So I need you understand why this is so upsetting to us, son, or I can't in good faith send you back to school."

Clark didn't say anything for a long time. How could he tell his father he honestly had nothing to worry about? That the reason he felt he shouldn't be punished was because he'd been punishing himself over and over since it happened. He didn't think it was wrong what he did-its less than someone else would have done, but if someone else had thrown that snowball, Jesse's nose wouldn't be broken.

"I understand Dad, more than you or Mom could ever hope to. I have this strength-this power that I don't fully know what to do with, and its something I have to think about every second of everyday. I'm sorry about what happened with Jesse, and it scares me as much as it scares you. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I hate that I did. Trust me or not, but I'm going back to school. You once told me that quitting was a hard habit to break, and I don't want to start going down that path-its too easy."

Jonathan felt and sharp pang of regret and just looked at his son. All this time he'd been seeing Clark as a child that still needed to be guided towards right and wrong. But the Clark that stood before him was a young man showing the full burden of his actions. Jonathan suddenly felt ashamed. He admonished himself for once again underestimating his son. When would he accept that they've raised an incredible person? He stood there at a lost as he watched Clark's face color with the emotion he was fighting to control. Jonathan did the only thing a father could do and reached over and pulled him into a strong embrace, saying softly into his ear "I'm so proud of you Clark." He felt Clark's whole body let go as he sank deeper into his shoulders, and he waited for the release he knew was coming. He held him for a long time, creating a place where he didn't have to be so strong, and everything Clark had been holding in for months came rushing out. He allowed Clark be the first to pull away when he was ready, and when he finally stood up his face was bright red and wet with tears he didn't bother wiping away. He looked at his father with a very small smile that lit up his eyes for a moment and whispered "sorry". Jonathan returned the smile and said "don't be." as he affectionately ruffled his hair, kissed his cheek and said goodnight.

Clark climbed into bed that night no surer than he had been, but at least knowing for certain-the only thing he;d ever known for certain, was that his parents would always be there, and as long as he had that, even the scary likes of Excelsior and all its pompous duplicity didn't seem so bad.

* * *

The days were plunging fast into winter almost bypassing Fall completely. Lex wandered through the trees that had barely begun to change before their leaves littered the ground. He often walked the same path that led to that open field where he first saw Clark. There was something both strange and comforting about his tall figure brushing the top of the branches that day, and it was exactly what he needed. He was more nervous about starting at Excelsior than he wanted to admit and something about Clark gave him the strength he needed, though he had no idea why. Maybe he sensed the same loneliness in Clark that he felt, and he needed something to focus on, to know there was someone at that place he could reach and make a difference to. But somewhere he'd crossed a line in his mind and allowed things to get too personal.

It was getting more difficult to remain objective where Clark was concerned and now Clark had been a victim of his inability to hide his true feelings. He couldn't let that happen again, and he didn't want to lose Clark completely. They'd transcended the teacher-student relationship long ago, and now they behaved more like good friends, and friends had always been hard to come by for him, given the black aura surrounding his family name. Clark was the first person to see him as he was in the moment, not for what he had been, or what his name implied. He even began to rely on him more and more for advice on personal matters, and Lex loved being in the position of mentor. All he ever wanted was to be respected and looked up to-part of the reason he became a teacher; and to have that from someone as decent and intelligent as Clark was more than he ever hoped for. So no matter what he needed to do, he wasn't going to jeopardize that.

* * *

 

Clark wondered if anyone cared how much he hated mahogany. As he sat with his parents outside the Dean's office he thought it unlikely anyone did. Well maybe his mother would if he told her, his father would give him a look and tell him to stop it and that this was serious. He leaned back in the stiff leather chair loathing his surroundings. Mahogany was dark and oppressive and cold. The very sight sent shivers up down his spine-he even hated the smell, which was a mixture of rotted wood and old books, or maybe that was just the way the Dean smelled. He felt a gentle hand on his leg and was surprised to find he'd been fidgeting like mad and obviously annoying his mother. But she was gentle about telling him to stop. She made eye contact and gave him a small smile when his leg stopped moving, and went back to pretending not to stare at the Dean's office door.

Finally after fifteen agonizing minutes the Dean stepped out of his office and ushered them inside. It was surprisingly painless and quick. The dean told them Jesse's parents wanted to put the whole incident behind them, as did Jesse-though Clark doubted that. And he reminded his parents what an exemplary student Clark had been and hoped this was the last time Clark ever landed in his office.

It was strange to be back on school grounds after everything that happened. He didn't know why he expected it to look different after just five days. His dorm was the same ivy covered old brick building it had always been, and there was still a slat missing from one of the shutters outside his window. The air was a little chillier but that was the only difference; maybe— he hoped—things could return to normal. He stopped in front of the entrance to his building to say goodbye to his parents. He was about to embrace his mother when he heard his name yelled from the door way.

"Kent!" It was Braden of course and he barreled down the stairs to greet him. The surprising thing was Damon and Kennedy came out the door after him but Braden waved them on. He stopped just short of pulling him into a bear hug when he saw his parents standing there. Braden put on his biggest smile and extended his hand to them both.

"Hey!, good to finally meet you Mr. and Mrs. Kent. I'm Braden, Clark's roommate who he doesn't have enough manners to introduce."

Clark laughed. "Well if you'd given me a chance..."

"You're too slow Kent. Wow, you're really tall too Mr. Kent. I see where Clark gets it-oh right, he's adopted. Funny how that worked out huh?"

His father had the same reaction to Braden he had when they first met-somewhere between bewilderment and amusement; in the end he just decided to laugh.

"Well we asked for a tall baby, the dark hair was Martha's idea."

Braden's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

His mother hit his father and smiled. "No, not seriously."

Braden just broke out in his classic laugh that always made Clark smile. "Hey, your Dad is a lot funnier than you, you should learn to lighten up."

Clark shot him a dirty look.

His Dad shook his head and laughed marveling that Clark had described Braden perfectly. He knew it was time to hand Clark back over to Excelsior, and clapped Braden on the back, telling him to take good care of their son. He reached over and pulled Clark into a bear hug and spoke low enough so only he could hear.

"Call us anytime Ok? I know you're trying to be strong but you don't have to be alone. Even grown men need their parents sometimes. I love you Clark."

Clark gave his Dad a gentle squeeze back. "I love you too Dad."

He hugged his Mom tightly and kissed them both goodbye. He knew he was too old for any of it, but he didn't care. Braden stood with him and watched them go, then slung his arm around his shoulder, guiding him inside.

"Kent, I have sooo much to tell you!"

* * *

Back in their dorm room, Clark let Braden prattle on for a good twenty minutes. Stretched across his bed he reprised all the events of the last few days, barely stopping for a breath.

"Man, you should have seen Jesse when he came back. His nose was like twice the size of his face-ok maybe not that big, but it was hideous!" Seeing the look on Clark's face he quickly added. "Oh but it looks almost normal now. The swelling only lasted a day or two, its mostly just purple lately. Anyway, Jesse tried to go on and on how evil you were and how he hoped you got expelled, but pretty much everyone hates Jesse, so he didn't really find a sympathetic audience. And pretty much everyone who knows you, likes you and never had a problem with you. So Jesse had to pretty much shut the hell up about it and act like it was no big deal. By the end of the week, he tried to spin it like you guys just got into a fight and you got a lucky hit in. What a fucking loser!"

Braden started laughing at his own words and Clark couldn't help but remember that just a week ago Braden shunned their friendship publicly for that loser. Clark tried to keep his face placid, but something must have betrayed how he really felt, because Braden suddenly got quiet.

"Kent...I know I;ve been a complete ass to you and I'm sorry it took what happened with Jesse to make me realize it. And it makes me sick that you still put up with me after the way I've treated you. I don't give a shit about all this anymore. You're probably the best friend I have here-have ever had here, and I need to grow some balls and just own it. Why am I playing kiss up to assholes like Jesse and Damon, when I'd rather hang out with you?"

Clark really wanted to believe everything Braden was saying, but he didn't want to get hurt if in another week when Jesse was back in everyone's good graces he changed his tune again. He watched Braden fighting to keep eye contact while his cheeks colored with obvious embarrassment. He thought Braden would make a great politician one day, or an actor, because it was almost impossible not to like him no matter what he did. He couldn't fault him-he knew he was trying, and whenever Braden peppered his speech with expletives he was usually attempting to hide that sensitive side he claimed to hate.

Clark decided to let him off the hook. "I told you before it was Ok. You've known those guys forever and I just got here, I didn't expect you to just abandon ship."

Braden sighed and didn't smile for once. "You're amazing Clark."

Clark hopped off his bed. "Amazingly hungry. Lets sneak off campus and get some pizza."

Braden eyed him curiously as if he was trying to see if Clark had been replaced by an impostor.

"Weren't you just suspended for five days? Do you really think you should push your luck?"

"I know, but pizza sounds a lot better than whatever they're serving tonight ..."

"Clark, you're going to have to see everyone tomorrow, why don't you just get it over with."

Braden was astute at the most annoying times. "I'd like to live in denial for one more night if you don't mind."

"Clark, you're a hero. You have nothing to worry about. You did what most of the school wanted to do to Jesse since he came here."

"It should make me feel better, but it doesn't."

Braden picked up his jacket. "Because you're disgustingly good. Now come on, over-cooked pasta awaits!"

Clark shook his head. "I'm honestly not that hungry. You go on, I think I'm going to see Professor Luthor anyway."

Braden's expression changed suddenly, but he tried to keep his face neutral. "I see, this was all a rouse. You were just really biding your time until you knew the teachers were done with their evening meeting."

"What? I didn't even think about that. I just wanted to thank him. The dean said he was a big reason in why they went pretty light on me."

Braden suppressed a snort.

"Don't start with the Lex stuff again. I don't care what you've heard from your brother."

Braden raised his eyebrow. "Lex is it? Watch your back Kent." He flashed him a big smile and slipped out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

He didn't know why he did it, but something propelled him to arrive at the faculty housing in under three seconds. It was probably a dumb thing to do, to blatantly use his powers, but he hadn't realized until that minute how much he missed being able to do whatever he wanted away from watchful eyes.

Lex's light was on so he speed up the back stairs, by-passing the elevator. He'd only been to Lex's rooms once or twice since they always worked in his office, so he hoped it wasn't too forward of him to visit him now. He took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a muffled "Come in!" and opened the door.

Lex was apparently in the middle of making himself dinner. Various spices and herbs were spread about on the narrow counter that separated the kitchenette from the rest of the front room, and the pungent smell of burned meat filled the small apartment. As Clark looked closer he could see the whole kitchen was in complete chaos, and Lex-who's back was still to him looked completely flustered over a pot of something that was boiling over.

"I'll be right with you Jack-though I'm thinking dinner is a complete bust."

"Its ok, I'm not that hungry."

Lex stopped dead in a comically frozen pose with his charred spoon held in mid-air. He whipped around and his whole face lit up when he saw Clark standing there. Without thinking he threw the spoon down and went to hug Clark, but remembered himself just in time and just grabbed his shoulders affectionately.

"Welcome back! I see the judge gave you a stay."

Clark returned his smile. "Yeah, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Now I feel like an idiot for worrying so much. But I just came by to thank you for your support, the Dean mentioned how you really went to bat for me; I appreciate it."

"I was just being honest, and its for the good of the school. That Jesse kid is a pain in the ass, and I think the Dean realizes that. Sorry, teachers aren't supposed to say things like that. Anyway,

Excelsior needs more students like you, not less."

Clark blushed a little. "Thank you. Well, I'm obviously interrupting dinner, so I guess I'll go face the dining hall."

"No, you're not interrupting. I'm happy you came by."

"Well, who's Jack?"

Lex's smile faltered a little. "Jack? He's just a friend. I promised I'd make us dinner, but I should have remembered I can't cook at all. I thought I could manage pasta, but I was seriously wrong."

Clark laughed, but he felt a small pang of-envy? But that was ridiculous. Lex could have friends, he just never imagined he did. How completely arrogant of him to see himself as his only friend. Lex was definitely worldly and well known, he probably had a ton of friends. Now Clark was realizing maybe it was ridiculous to think Lex would even consider himself a friend of a sixteen year old student of his. And maybe Braden was right, maybe Jack was a date...Clark tried to shake himself out of his thoughts, because the jealousy seemed to only increase. At least he knew alien teens were just as confused as everyone claimed human teens were.

"Clark?"

"Huh?" He must have looked like an idiot standing there. "Oh, sorry, I think I'm tired or something. Anyway, I'll see in you in class."

Lex really wished he didnt have to go, but Jack would be there any moment, and it would be awkward to say the least.

"I'd invite you to stay, but I think we'll probably just go into town and eat something edible, and I don't want you to get in trouble for leaving campus."

Clark nodded. "Thanks anyway. I'll go catch up with Braden."

"Its good to have you back Clark."

He smiled that smile that drove Lex crazy. It was somewhere between embarrassed and proud and pretty much summed up Clark.

Clark turned abruptly just before he closed the door. "Oh are we resuming our research meetings tomorrow?"

"Next week, I want to give you time to get settled back in."

"I'm settled."

Lex laughed at him. "Well lets play it by ear. Let me know how you're feeling about it after your classes tomorrow."

"Ok, goodnight Professor."

"Goodnight Clark."

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Clark overslept. He was welcomed to his first morning back in school by Braden tugging at his arm and yelling directly into his ear "Wake up!" and grumbling how trying to move him was like trying to move a damn boulder. So Clark was so rushed trying not to be late, that he didn't have time to worry about how everyone would look at him once he was thrown back into the thick of the student body. Before he knew it, he was standing in the dining hall with Braden leading the way to the long table in the middle where 'the crew' always sat. Clark was about to leave Braden and find a seat at the smaller tables by the window, when Braden tugged his backpack off his shoulder into an empty chair next to his and said they should go get breakfast before all the waffles were gone.

He didn't want to be pleased, and he didn't want it to matter, but he bit back a smile of relief as he followed a chattering Braden into the lunch line right behind Gareth who looked genuinely pleased to see him. Back at the table, he noticed Kennedy had joined them, while Jesse and Damon sat at the next table over. Of course the main topic of conversation was what happened between him and Jesse, but Clark thought it was in poor taste to discuss it with Jesse in earshot and shooting venomous looks his way. He didn't really want to talk about it anyway, and would be glad when the attention of the school shifted away from him.

Still, it was nice to no longer be an outcast, no matter how temporary.

By the time Clark walked into Lex's classroom-his last class of the day-he'd grown tired of all the looks and whispers and knowing smiles, or pointed glares. Didn't anyone have anything better to think about it? To make matters worse, Jesse sat just two desks away from him in Economics. His exasperation was quickly turning into a bad mood, chasing away the elation he felt that morning. It must have been written all over his face, because Lex threw him a sympathetic look as he entered the classroom. He noticed Jesse was already seated as he made his way over to his desk. It was the first time he'd gotten a good look at his face-it was bruised and swollen around his nose, and his cheeks were splotched with fading purple and red. Part of him would be happy when Jesse's face returned to normal so he wouldn't have to feel such crushing guilt every time he looked at him. He was so engrossed in being face to face with what he'd done, he didn't notice a well placed leg in the aisle.

Clark's face hit the old wood before he knew what was happening, and his books and pens spilled out of his bag, scattering in all directions along with his limbs. The burst of laughter all around him roared in his ears, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment and fear of having to explain the now cracked floor. He took a deep breathe, knowing he had two choices, and whichever he chose would seal his fate for the rest of the semester.

He gathered himself off the floor, placing a big grin on his face and looked directly at Jesse.

"I guess your legs grew since I last saw you. How about keeping them out of the aisle."

Another burst of laughter from everyone let him know he'd chosen wisely. Jesse just looked at him coldly and turned around in his seat. Gareth helped him pick up his books and supplies. Clark didn't dare look in Lex's direction-he had never been one to play to his peers and he knew Lex wouldn't approve-he didn't even approve; but he wouldn't go back to being an outcast just to spare Jesse further embarrassment.

Still, the whole incident rattled him and he found concentrating on the fate of the U.S dollar against the ever-growing Euro impossible, so when Lex asked him about the benefits of returning to the gold standard, Clark's mind was firmly planted on the very visible crack in the floor. Usually if he searched his brain he discovered some part of him had been paying attention, but this time he came up blank. He sheepishly asked Lex to repeat the question and answered more than was necessary to make up for not paying attention. Gareth elbowed him and snickered. Clark really just wanted the day over with.

He tried to slip out class as soon as the bell rang, but Lex summoned him to his desk. Maybe he was going to reprimand him for embarrassing Jesse. Clark slowly gathered his things and waited until the room was completely clear before he approached.

Lex was leaning against his desk, watching as Clark acted like he was walking a death march. He tried his best not to smile.

"First day back pretty rough, huh?"

Clark just shrugged, then immediately heard his mother's voice in his head admonishing him for being rude.

"Sorry. It was Ok. Hopefully things will go back to normal soon."

Lex nodded. "I wouldn't worry to much. By this time next week you'll be old news. I'd watch Jesse if I were you though. I have a feeling he's not forgetting this anytime soon."

Clark winced, wishing now he had handled the situation differently and cared less about saving face.

"I really should have kept my mouth shut."

Leave it to Clark to actually feel bad about embarrassing someone who'd just made him fall flat on his face. If it had been anyone else, he might have had a full-on fight on his hands. The truth was there were few bigger pricks on campus than Jesse and he was happy Clark wasn't letting him get away with his usual antics. Unfortunately, boys like Jesse had a way of enacting insidious retaliation and he only hoped he'd be able to protect Clark next time.

"Clark, Jesse deserved a lot worse than a few choice words. He tripped you, and he could have hurt you. And don't you dare bring up his nose-you push someone hard enough and you're bound to get something broken."

Clark was so relieved Lex didn't think he was a brat for what he did, he almost smiled. Almost.

" I wish I understood why he's like that."

"I gave up trying to understand boys like Jesse a long time ago. They are who they are and usually turn into horrible adults. The only thing you can do is to try and stay out of their way, and don't let them win if you can't. Well, enough about that prick..."

Clark eyes widened, he'd never get used to hearing a teacher talk about another student like that.

"... but I think I've proven my point from last night. You obviously need time to readjust, so we can begin working together whenever you're ready. I know today is our usual day, so I just wanted to re-confirm we don't have to do any research tonight ."

Clark looked alarmed. "No, please, can we still work tonight? Seriously, its the one thing I've been looking forward to all day. I just want someone sane to talk to for once. I mean i love Braden, but he never shuts up."

Lex laughed out loud, and Clark broke into his first smile since breakfast. The elation he felt that morning was slowly returning. He reminded himself he tended to take everything way too seriously, and he shouldn't let people's curiosity or Jesse's stupidity ruin his mood.

"Ok, if you're up for it, then I'll see you after dinner."

Clark smiled brightly. "Cool! Oops, I need to make study hall. I'd better run. I;ll see you tonight."

Lex barely had time to get out a goodbye before Clark was gone. Then that same weird emptiness he always felt whenever Clark left the room crept over him. It was like the first moments of dusk when the sun first slipped beneath the horizon.

That boy was really making him ridiculous.

Instinct told him he definitely should not be spending evenings alone with him, even if they were just working. He needed to end the research sessions completely, but he knew he wasn't going to. Right or wrong, its what he wanted and he wasn't about to give it up. He liked Clark way too much to compromise him, so he wasn't worried. He'd just have to find that self-control he learned a long time ago.

* * *

Clark rushed through dinner, trying his best to ignore Braden's weirdly jealous glares and showed up at Lex's rooms five minutes early. Wonderful smells wafted into the hall from Lex's room, a far cry from the pungent burnt smell from the day before. Maybe Lex had learned how to cook. When Lex opened the door and he saw the large white bags sitting on the counter, he realized Lex had simply learned to order in.

"You have room for lasagna?"

Clark smiled and hurried past Lex over to the waiting container on the counter. He took a long whiff.

"Mmmm..this smells almost a good as my Mom's, and a hell of a lot better than that mystery meat they served at dinner tonight. I hope our parents know their hard earned money is not going to our nutrition."

Lex laughed and handed him a plate, and he immediately tore open the container and grabbed the waiting knife.

"Well dig in, I'm just organizing some notes."

Clark looked up, his mouth already full of noodles and cheese and mumbled something that sounded like "You're not eating?" but Lex couldn't be sure. Clark slipped another piece of lasagna onto a plate and walked over to where Lex was sitting, setting the plate in front of him.

Lex shoved the papers to the side and started to inhale his dinner. He felt like he hadn't eaten all day-he also felt like he was on a date; all that was missing was a bottle of wine and maybe some candles. As anxious as he felt sitting inches from Clark watching him enjoy his meal, maybe wine wasn't such a bad idea. He didnt know why he had the urge to feed Clark, well he knew part of the reason-food and sex were closely related and he just wanted to see the look of enjoyment on Clark's face. He wanted to experience something simple and pleasurable, especially after the phone call he'd just gotten.

"I hope you don't mind, but I never eat italian without a good glass of red wine."

Clark gestured that he didn't care without so much as pausing in his meal. Lex had to smile a little as Clark continued to attack the food like a drowning man being thrown a life preserver, and the small moans of pleasure Clark made as he devoured his second plate of lasagna were exactly what Lex needed tonight-or what he absolutely didn't need. Maybe he'd give Clark a glass of wine too, then they'd both be relaxed and maybe Clark would let him-Lex shook his head violently-he was not going there. One phone call was not going to make him forget everything he'd struggled so hard to be.

Clark laughed at himself as he cleaned his second plate. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm starving. I ate pretty well back in Oregon with my parents and I was afraid it'd be weeks before I had a decent meal again. So, thanks a lot, it was a nice surprise."

Lex smiled and poured himself a glass of wine. "Well there's plenty more if you want."

Clark shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "No thank you. I'd eat it all if you let me."

"I don't know where you put it."

Clark shrugged and grinned. "I'm young, maybe I'm still growing."

That was a nice slap back into reality. Lex put the wine on the counter and cleared the table. They really needed to start concentrating on research quickly.

They delved into their work and Lex was finally able to concentrate and stop fixating on Clark's flushed cheeks, or the way he kept running his fingers through his hair when he was trying to understand something. Then he remembered wanting to mention something that'd he'd noticed in the classroom.

While he was straightening up the room, he'd nearly tripped over a broken floor board and realized it had to be from when Clark had fallen. He thought maybe he'd gotten hurt and didn't want to mention it.

"I meant to ask how you were."

Clark looked up puzzled.

"I mean from the fall in class. I saw the floor board cracked-you must have hit your head pretty hard. You sure you're ok?"

Clark froze and his stomach turned to ice. He was sure all the color drained from his face. He'd nearly forgotten about the damage the floor suffered when he collided with it.

"Clark?"

"Um...sorry, No, I mean, Yes I'm fine. Maybe the floor was already cracked."

"I think I would have noticed that before. You sure you're Ok?"

He nodded. He didn't know why he was so panicked. Its not like the next sentence out of Lex's mouth would be. "Are you some super-powered alien floor cracker?"

He took a deep breathe and tried to steady his nerves. Lex reached over and moved his bangs off his forehead looking for any sign of a bruise.

"Amazing, not a scratch. Well the floors are pretty old..."

Clark felt a strange sensation travel down his spine as Lex's fingers lightly brushed his skin. For a small moment Lex looked directly into his eyes and he felt his heart pound in his chest. He looked away and his skin flushed deeper. He sighed inwardly, wanting to desperately understand what was going on.

Lex withdrew his hand quickly, cursing himself silently for allowing that small bit of intimacy. Clark's flesh was surprisingly warm and soft, and he bit his lip hard, trying not to-The shrill sound of his phone pulled him back to reality.

He quicky went into the next room to answer it. Clark sat there and waited, telling himself over and over that it was no big deal-that Lex wasn't from Smallville and wouldn't suspect anything, and that more importantly-he definitely did not have a crush on his teacher.

Lex came out of the other room looking visibly agitated. "I'm sorry Clark we have to cut this short. I have an unexpected visitor downstairs."

Lex looked really out of sorts; he'd never seen him that way. His usual cool composure was all but gone.

"Is everything Ok?"

Lex was packing his bag for him and thrust it towards him, practically pushing him out the door.

"Yeah...yeah, its fine...I just, I wasn't expecting this, though I should have I guess."

The very last thing he needed right now was for Clark to be here when his uninvited guest arrived.

"You don't seem fine, Lex."

Lex ran his hand over his scalp. "I'll be fine Clark. I'm really sorry, I'll see you on Wednesday, Ok?"

Clark nodded, still looking worried, but he left feeling completely uneasy.

As soon as Clark left, his phone rang again, and Lex grabbed it angrily.

"I don't know why you're here, but I'll be right down Dad."


	11. Chapter 11

Clark watched Lex change from skeleton to flesh and back again over and over. He was absently using his x-ray vision instead of listening to what he was saying. Today they started learning about how the stock market works, and how everything from natural disasters and political appointments affects the country's economy. Lex had been warning them about this series of lessons because they had a very important paper to write over Christmas break on the subject. It was crucial he pay attention, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't seem to shake the incident that roused him out of a deep sleep around 2 am that morning. It was one of the few times he cursed his excellent hearing.

What he really wanted to know is what Braden, and whoever his counterpart was, were thinking. Even if they thought he was dead asleep, he still didn't feel it was something they should be doing just a few feet away from him. Someone must have said his name, because the first thing he remembered through his haze upon waking, was Braden whispering "Kent is the deepest sleeper I know, don't worry."

The next sounds he heard were a lot of fumbling and more whispering and then...moaning and gasps. At that point Clark turned over in his bed, keeping the covers over his head. The movement stopped and didn't resume until they were sure he was just shifting positions. When Clark got the courage to peek through his comforter he was a little shocked by the sight. There was Braden, facing him, with head thrown back and cheeks bright red, while another boy had a hand wrapped firmly around his penis, while his other hand continued to push his boxers down. Then the other guy did something that made Braden's eyes fly open and wince, then he started moving quickly behind him. At that point Clark had seen enough and shut his eyes, shifting his body back towards the window.

What bothered him most was how his own body responded to the sexcapade going on. His hard-on was almost painful and he had no choice but to quickly relieve the pressure, and bit his lip hard to keep any moans from escaping, hoping he'd be able to change his boxers before Braden woke.

He eventually drifted back to sleep, and had no idea when the other boy finally left their room-Braden was alone by morning. But there it loomed again, the question of his sexuality. He just wished someone could make sense of it all for him. There was just no one to ask...except maybe Lex-who was saying his name for the third time.

"Care to join us in reality Clark?"

Clark looked up, completely embarrassed to see everyone looking in his direction.

"What? Oh, sorry Professor, I didn't hear the question."

"That's pretty apparent. See me after class ends." And he moved on and asked someone else. There was much snickering around him and thankfully the bell rang before things could get any worse.

As soon as everyone left he approached his desk. Normally he'd be upset he'd disappointed him, but today he wanted to get the reprimand over with, he had more important things on his mind.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening."

But Lex just waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't worry, I bore myself sometimes too."

Clark looked relieved but a little puzzled.

"I couldn't let you get away with zoning out like that, but I really just wanted to apologize for pushing you out last night."

He relaxed a little. "Oh, thats ok, it was late anyway. Who called?"

Lex's face immediately looked stoic. "Just an acquaintance. Is everything alright with you? I know you're still adjusting and everything."

He tried to smile. "I'm fine. I think I'm old news now anyway."

Lex nodded not entirely convinced. "Well, get to class. I'll see you tomorrow evening."

Clark went to leave, but stopped, hesitating.

"Something wrong?"

Clark shifted on his feet, not quite meeting his gaze. "Lex...do you know anything about..I mean of course you do, but at this age...I mean my age...weird things happen right? I mean it doesn't necessarily mean anything does it?"

Lex stepped closer. He didn't know whether to laugh or be scared. "Clark, whats going on?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Nothing, its nothing...I'm going to be late."

Lex looked concerned. "Clark...?"

"I gotta go."

"Well, if you need to talk..."

Clark nodded and quickly left.

* * *

He was halfway to class when he realized he didn't actually have one. He made a sharp turn toward the library-the last place he wanted to go, but students weren't permitted in the dorms during school hours, and were expected to "study" when they weren't in class. He normally loved to be surrounded by books, but there was something about the school's library he found oppressive. Why all the main buildings had to be swathed in dark mahogany he'd never understand, though his aversion to the wood was recent.

He entered the library building and saw Jesse and his friends in the large study hall situated just across from the main library room. He went to bypass the study hall completely when he saw that Jesse and his friends seemed to be hovering over someone. He moved in closer to the windows and noticed Jesse's horrible smirk right away. He and his friends were clearly taunting someone, and it looked like Eddie from his economics class. Eddie didn't have a ton of friends and small for his age, so he was an easy target. That was low even for Jesse. Clark pushed through the study hall entrance and walked directly over to Eddie's table. He had no idea what he was going to do or what he was going to say, but it angered him the aging study hall monitors seemed to let things like this go on too often. But the moment he neared Jesse, old Mr. Horace seemed to spring to life.

"Jesse, I think you'd better take your seat, and Mr. Kent, find somewhere to sit quickly."

It was if the incident with Jesse cast him in a new light as a trouble maker. Nothing else could explain how his presence suddenly made the monitor take notice. It left him feeling very uneasy and misjudged, but he took the seat across from Eddie silently. Eddie smiled at him appreciatively and returned to reading. Clark opened his book and started reading, wishing time moved as quickly as he did.

* * *

He ended up worrying for nothing. As mid-terms approached the days seem to fly by. There was definite tension in the air as the main activity of the campus became grouping up for intense cram sessions and staying up all hours of the night typing away on end-of-term papers. Clark had finished his ages ago, and he was tired of pretending he was as stressed as everyone else. He grew more and more restless with each day, though he had no idea why. Talk of his run-in with Jesse had ended after his first week back, though his image as a shining example of wholesome goodness was tarnished. He didn't mind, it kind of took the pressure off.

It was late afternoon, and he slipped down the backstairs of the dormitory, avoiding the common area where everyone was studying and went out the side door, sprinting towards the horse stables. He'd been spending more time there lately-it was the closest he could come to being on the farm. Maybe next semester he would give up swimming for his required sport and switch to the equestrian program. It was the one sport where his powers didn't factor and he'd be on an even playing field. His favorite horse was a beautiful Arabian mare, named Tornada. She reminded him of the horse he liked to ride most back home-beautiful, proud and temperamental. His Dad always said she didn't tolerate anyone except him. It was ironic that the closer winter break came, the more homesick he became. Maybe because he was no longer completely comfortable in his room.

Braden's nighttime activities had continued; though sporadically, which made it more nerve-wracking because he never knew when to expect it. It was like the giant elephant in the room-neither ever mentioned it, but he felt certain Braden knew he was aware of it by now-there seemed to be this new underlying tension between them. Every time Clark opened his mouth to say something, anxiety got the best of him and he remained mute. Often he retreated to Lex's room, but even that wasn't the sanctuary it once was. Lex had grown increasingly irritable and anxious lately, and he knew something was going on, but he was too chicken to ask. He overheard him yelling one day when he arrived outside his door, and it sounded like he was talking to his father. He didn't mention it when he let Clark in, but he was clearly agitated by the call. Clark hadn't stayed long that day.

He wanted to saddle Toranada and take her for a quick ride, but if you weren't enrolled in the equestrian program you weren't allowed to ride unless you had your own horse. He wondered if it would be too bratty to ask his parents for a horse just for school.

"You going riding?"

Clark jumped slightly and turned around. He hadn't seen Eddie approaching. So much for his exceptional hearing.

"No, I want to, but i don't have a horse here."

Eddie looked dressed for a casual ride in jeans and a parka. "Thats too bad, I was going to ask if you wanted to ride the trail with me. I'm sick of studying. I don't think anyone would mind if you took Tornada for a quick run; riding classes are over and she needs the exercise."

Clark took a quick look around. No faculty was insight and the trail was well away from any of the school buildings. He smiled and shrugged, reaching over to grab a saddle off the hook. They rode side-by-side into the clearing, not saying much. Finally Eddie cleared his throat.

"Um, Clark? I never got a chance to thank you for that day in the library."

He'd almost forgotten about that. "I didn't do anything, Mr. Horace stopped me before I got the chance."

Eddie looked a little embarrassed. "I know, but you were going to, and thats more than most people would do. I don't get guys like Jesse, I mean whats the point?"

Clark shrugged. "I don't know. I gave up trying to figure him out a while ago. I'm just sorry he's making your life here miserable."

Eddie smiled and guided his horse just ahead of Clark. "He's not as bad as he was. What you did to him seemed to knock him down a few notches. Anyway, its ok, I mean its not all that bad. Come on I'll race you to the pond."

Clark kicked his horse and followed. He knew it had to be hard for Eddie to thank him-the whole situation had to be humiliating for him. He hated that guys like Eddie got picked on because they were easy targets. He'd seen it all through school-anyone who was small or different was mocked and harassed. Fortunately, he'd never been a target, but it made him all the more protective of his secret. While he tried to combat it whenever he could, he knew part of him was grateful it wasn't him.

He'd been drifting and Eddie was far ahead of him, so he sent the horse into a fast gallop to catch up. Eddie looked behind him to see how far back Clark was and didn't see the fallen log he was coming up on. Clark saw it and reacted before he could think. In an instant he was off his horse and grabbing the reigns of Eddie's horse to keep it from tripping, while catching a falling Eddie before he hit the ground. The horse reared up but he gently guided him down, and went to make sure Eddie was ok. But he wasn't. He sat there wide-eyed, looking back at where Clark had left his horse and where Clark stood now.

As the realization of what Eddie must have seen dawned on him, he felt like he'd been doused with ice water. He stood frozen in one spot, waiting.

"Clark...what just happened?"

His throat was tight and his voice sounded strange "I..I saw the horse was going to trip over the log and..I didn't want either of you to get hurt..." He really wished Eddie's eyes stopped looking like giant saucers.

"But, you were back there, I saw you, and then you were here..I don't understand.."

"Please just forget it Eddie."

He struggled to get to his feet. Clark wasn;t sure he wanted him to help him right now-to be touched by him.

"But, how? I mean, I don't get it."

Clark was growing frustrated. "Just forget it. The important thing is you and the horse are ok, right? I can't explain what you think you saw."

"Clark..."

"Please."

Eddie stood there looking at him with an odd expression Clark didn't want to see. "So..." he lowered his voice, even though they were in the middle of the woods, "..are those myths about Smallville true then?"

"What?"

"You know, that something happened to the people there during that meteor shower when we were little."

Clark started to walk away. He knew he shouldn't-he knew that was as good as admitting the truth, but he couldn't stand that look. He didn't want anyone to look at him like that-like he was a freak.

"I'm taking Tornada back."

"But I just want to know what happened."

Clark turned around and looked at him. "I did you a favor, now I'm asking you to do me one-just forget it, please."

Clark hopped up on the horse and headed back to the stables as fast as he could. He had no idea if Eddie would tell anyone what he saw-hopefully no one believed him if he did. Christmas vacation really couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

_"Its snowing again. Its the second time this week. Don't worry, i've lost my desire to make snowballs, but it doesn't stop everyone else. Honestly though, there's hardly enough snow on the ground to make much of anything, but its pretty when its coming down._

He pointed the camera towards the lake to show how beautifully serene it was, then sat it on a nearby rock and continued talking into it. He was desperately trying to sound cheerful, but he could barely muster a smile since taking the horses out with Eddie. He adjusted the focus and tried again.

_"So...I'm really excited to come home next week. I never thought i'd say this, but i really miss Smallville. Um...Oh, my mid-terms are going well, i take my last one tomorrow. Lex, I mean Professor Luthor wasn't kidding when he said his would be killer, but i think I'll keep my A average...I'm sorry guys, I don't know whats wrong, I think I'm just ready for a break. I know you canceled the ski trip, so are we still having the usual New Year's Eve party at least? Chloe texted me yesterday and asked, I think she has someone she wants to bring... I think... I'm going to head back inside, its almost dinner time. Really crappy food awaits me. Love you."_

Clark closed the camera and tucked it into his school bag. The snow was falling in big flakes now and he'd forgotten his coat. He didn't need it, but he worried even more now about causing suspicion. He'd avoided Eddie since that day, ducking around any corner to avoid walking his way, and avoiding eye contact whenever they were in the same vicinity, but there was no indication he'd told anyone anything. Maybe he was overreacting, and so far no one had questioned whether or not he was like everyone else, and it scared him more than he thought it would.

The whole school was bustling now as everyone was busy preparing to go home for the holidays—too busy to notice whether Clark wore a coat or not he was sure. Most exams were over, and their time was completely their own. He discovered pretty quickly how boring things became when there was no structure. They couldn't leave campus, so most people spent their time holed up in the common room watching bad movies. His parents wouldn't be back in Smallville til the end of the week, so there was no early leave for him, and he'd be staying at school til the end of term with the rest of the stragglers. Braden was flying to Switzerland in the morning, and Clark was deeply jealous. Originally they thought they'd see each other on the slopes since the place they were planning on renting wasn't far from Braden's rented villa, but the lovely snowball incident had put an end to all that. Braden seemed more disappointed than Clark expected, but soon turned it into a new way of annoying Clark, by mentioning how amazing the slopes were at the resort, and giving daily weather reports about just how much powder the mountain was getting.

Neither had brought up his nighttime activities, and both continued to pretend it didn't exist. Clark kind of wished he had the courage to mention it, because even though they'd only known each other a few months, he didn't think it was like Braden to do that, and in some ways they were probably going through the same thing.

Clark was due at Lex's room to say his goodbye and finish up the last of their research before the break. Because he was busy studying for exams they hadn't really seen much of each other, and Lex was still acting sort of strange anyway. He headed up the hill towards the faculty housing, checking quickly to see if the present he bought was still inside his bag. He hoped he liked it—it wasn't really anything extravagant. Lex mentioned a passion for a comic character Clark used to love as a kid. He remembered his father getting a couple of issues signed for him by the artist during a trip to California when he was 10, and asked their housekeeper if she'd send one of them to school. It had arrived yesterday. As a joke , also in the box, he included a cookbook his parent's company put out and nod to his abysmal cooking skills. He just hoped he appreciated the joke.

Halfway up the hill he felt someone barrel into him followed by a very loud "FUCK!"

He turned around quickly, alarmed, and there was Braden nursing his shoulder and staring at him angrily.

"What the hell is your back made of Kent?"

Clark swallowed hard, but stayed calm. "Muscles and bone? Why are you running into me anyway?"

"Well I was going to knock you down in the snow, but I guess not, geez! Where you heading?"

"L…Professor Luthor's. I just need to drop of the rest of my research."

Braden rolled his eyes—something he always did whenever he mentioned Lex, and it was getting annoying.

"Well if you finish by 7 a few of us are sneaking off campus to go get pizza, a holiday gift to ourselves."

Clark smiled, he was not looking forward to another night of scary meat from the dining hall. Since it was the last week of school, they'd pretty much given up trying to prepare anything edible. "Yea, definitely."

"Cool, meet you around the back of our dorms?"

Clark nodded and headed back up the hill. Braden pretended to limp away holding his shoulder in mock anguish. He'd definitely miss him over break.

* * *

Lex looked at the piles of clothes scattered across his bed surrounded by open empty suitcases waiting to be filled. He'd decided to spend the holidays in Paris, and was in a sense, running away. He is expected at his father's home for the holidays and was to participate in several social functions over the next couple of weeks to solidify his re-entry to the Luthor world. Ever since that night his father showed up, he'd been pressuring him almost daily to take his rightful place at Luthorcorp—well his father didn't pressure, he simply and calmly insisted, like there was no other option. They argued a long time that first night, after his father declared how gracious and patient he'd been allowing Lex to pursue this idiotic profession and now that'd he'd proven his point, it was time to stop embarrassing him. Lex was so infuriated he could have punched his father. He had no idea how hard and painful it was to denounce everything he'd grown up with and find a passion of his own. He felt good when he stood up in front of his class and earnest eyes looked to him for answers, he loved that he could have a part in shaping some of the good inside of his students, and he loved that he had managed to inspire Clark Kent, who'd had the advantage of being raised by people who believed as he was trying to.

His father had never wanted him to stand on his own. Their whole relationship was about manipulation and control. Why did he have to be born to such a man? He sighed heavily and tossed his first sweater into the suitcase. There was a gentle but sturdy knock on the door and he knew Clark had arrived. He'd been keeping him at arm's length lately and he knew it was confusing and maybe hurtful to Clark, but he didn't know what else to do until his feelings subsided. When he opened the door Clark was standing there grinning with wind-tousled hair and pink cheeks. He was wearing rumpled jeans and a dark blue turtleneck sweater with a maroon scarf thrown carelessly around his neck. He always wore these dark, rich and colorful tones, and it always seemed funny to him that his backpack was a shocking bright red. He ushered him in quickly so he wouldn't stand there gazing at him forever.

Clark noticed his suitcase on his bed in the other room.

"When are you leaving?"

"Day after tomorrow. I thought I'd start packing now."

Clark smiled and put his bag down on the sofa. "You're good, I never start until the last minute, my room is still a complete mess. Are you going to see your father?"

Lex shook his head. "You want something to drink?"

"No thanks. Where you going?"

Lex poured himself a drink—he probably shouldn't be having wine, but he didn't care right now. "Paris."

"Oh cool, with who?"

"No one, just a last minute decision."

Clark looked very concerned. "You're spending Christmas by yourself? You can't do that."

Lex laughed a little. "Its not a big deal, I've done it before. Besides its hard to have a bad time in Paris, even if you're alone."

Clark went over to his bag and pulled out the present he had for him. "I was going to give you this, its nothing big, but I want to wait and give it to you on Christmas Day—if you'll agree to at least spend Christmas with us, you can go to Paris afterwards."

Lex had to admit he was completely floored by Clark's offer—he really wasn't expecting that. The extremely kind gesture hit him hard after dealing with so much animosity from his father, and for a moment he was afraid he'd lose it in front of Clark. But years of Luthor training dictated he hold it together.

"Clark, there's no way I would impose on you and your family like that, and I'm sure your parents wouldn't want you dragging home your professor with you."

Clark was growing more enthused by the prospect now, his eyes lit up the way they always did when he was excited.

"They'd love it! Seriously my family would love to have you. I talk about you all the time and my Dad really wants so meet you. If it'll make you feel better I'll call them right now and ask."

"Clark…"

But Clark already had his phone out, punching the number to speed dial his parents.

Clark stood there smiling and nodding at him as he talked to his mother.

"Mom, guess what? Professor Luthor isn't spending Christmas with his family, and was going to run off to Paris, but I convinced him to spend Christmas with us, if that's Ok?"

Clark started nodding emphatically and gave him the thumbs-up that made Lex laugh. He could look like a big kid sometimes. What he loved most was that he didn't make it sound like they should take pity on him, that he was the true winner in the situation. He really did want to meet the people who could produce such a person.

He closed his phone and beamed. "My mom's excited, so's my dad, he was in the room and yelled he couldn't wait to meet you. So, do you think you can put off Paris for just a little bit?"

Lex almost laughed. "Saying no to that face would be like kicking a puppy. I think Air France can wait another week for my patronage."

Clark's smile broadened, inappropriate or not, he was beyond happy and the week before the break didn't seem so unbearable now.

"Great. My parents are flying in from the west coast on Friday, then we'll all drive to Smallville together, and you're welcome to drive come with us, or you can meet us there."

Lex didn't know if he was ready to spend almost three hours in a car with Clark and his parents, and he really did need his car.

"I'll meet you there, I'll need my car anyway."

Clark nodded. "Right, I forgot. I'd say you could use my car, except I don't have one. I was supposed to save my money to help pay for my first car, but I never managed to by my 16th birthday, so my Dad said I'd have to wait. I still think its unfair though, everyone else I know has a car."

Lex smiled, only Clark's parents would be so careful not to spoil their son. "Well, I'm sure you realize that's a valuable lesson."

Clark slightly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, its good for me. I'm hoping they'll let me borrow one of their cars so I can at least show you around and not make you drive. Of course that'll take all of five minutes."

"I've been to Smallville, its not that bad, at least not what I remember."

"Well, its boring, but its home." He really couldn't stop grinning, he hadn't been this happy in weeks.

"Oh! The whole reason I came over here. My research. That's everything so far." He handed Lex a thick pile of papers.

Lex weighed the stack in his hands. "I'll never understand how you get so much done, you put me to shame, seriously. I'm going to tell your parents what an amazing help you've been."

Clark shrugged. "Its not that much—anyway, I'd better go, I promised Braden I'd…" Clark stopped, he almost forgot Lex was a teacher and that he shouldn't be telling him plans of sneaking off campus.

"..um, sit with him at dinner."

Lex smirked; Clark was really the worst liar. "You'd better go then, dinner is almost over."

"Um, right, so…I'll see you tomorrow—definitely before Friday. I'm really glad you decided to come. I promise to try and make it fun for you."

"Don't worry about, I just appreciate being asked. Thank you, Clark."

Clark smiled a little more shyly this time and walked to the door.

"Clark? Have a slice for me Ok?"

Clark turned around and the look of alarm on his face was priceless, he finally relaxed when he saw Lex's expression of amusement and smiled, relieved.

"Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Clark."


	12. Chapter 12

The landscape of the outlying counties hadn't changed much since he was a kid. There was still corn, corn and more corn, with the monotony only interrupted by the occasional new super center or strip mall. He had just entered Lowell County and was fast approaching Smallville. He wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived. He'd spoken to Clark that morning, and he sounded excited and there were dogs barking in the background. He wondered what Clark would be like in his natural environment.

He admitted he was pretty surprised by the invitation. He and Clark had gotten close over the semester, spending so much time together, but he hadn't yet dared to consider them close friends. And now being away from school where the barriers were down, he wondered if he could trust himself.

The roads were virtually empty and another car hadn't crossed his path in over 20 minutes so he sped up his Porsche, letting it grip the soft asphalt as he pushed the speedometer towards 90. The Porsche had been his 16th birthday gift from his father, and the one thing he kept that his father had given him—the one physical thing anyway. He hadn't told his father he wouldn't be coming to the Luthor home for the holidays—he didn't see the point, his father wouldn't hear him anyway. He pressed harder on the accelerator and the fields of corn became fleeting blurs of gold and green.

His phone jolted him out of his reverie. He pressed a button and Clark's voice filled the car.

"Are you close, or lost?"

"I'm kind of close, but I'm not lost yet. Someone gave me very detailed directions." He glanced at Clark's well drawn out map lying on the passenger seat.

Clark ignored the sarcasm "I know, but it gets tricky once you get off Route 8, there's not a sign and –"

"Make a right at the road with the abandoned tractor tire, right, got it."

Clark laughed. "Sorry, I guess I did give pretty good directions.

Lex smiled and eased up on the gas "According to my GPS, I'll be there in about 27 minutes."

"Ok, I'll stop bothering you. See you when you get here."

Clark hung up the phone and turned to his mother hovering in the background. He knew she was standing there listening.

"He says he'll be here in about half an hour."

"Good his room is all ready for him. Are Pete and Chloe coming over?"

Clark purposely didn't call them yet, because he knew; Chloe especially; that they both would want to come over to check out Lex, and he didn't want to put him through adolescent scrutiny the moment he arrived.

"No, I told them I'd see them tomorrow."

"Is Lex staying for the New Years Eve party?"

Clark had forgotten all about that—it was the biggest party of the year in Smallville, not that they had much to compete with; aside from a few summer barbecues and harvest dances, there wasn't much of a social life in Smallville. The entire town was invited, and people planned for months what they were wearing, and it made him just a little more popular in school a couple of months before the event. It was strange not to be involved in all the pre-holiday buzz for the first time. Some of his parent's employees had decorated the main house and farmhouse for them, because they didn't want them to come home to a cheerless house, but Clark wished they had left it—it was his favorite part of the holiday, though there was still plenty to be done. The plan was go out and choose their Christmas tree that night and hopefully Lex would join them; then he'd drag all the horrible tacky decorations out of the garage and over-decorate the barn. Usually Pete and Chloe helped with that, each trying to outdo the other with gaudiness, then they'd enjoy their handy-work until the season was over. He hoped Lex didn't find all it too childish to put up with because he didn't see how he could deny Chloe and Pete their yearly tradition.

"I'm not sure he's staying that long, but I'll invite him."

His mother smiled, she seemed really intrigued by the fact Clark had befriended his famous professor. "Good, he's welcome of course. I think your Dad wants you to help him clear the driveway."

Clark could see his Dad outside struggling with the snow blower. He nodded and grabbed his jacket. He quickly looked at his watch again for the fifth time in an hour. Lex would be there in less than fifteen minutes.

* * *

Lex wasn't sure what he was expecting when he finally arrived at the Kent farm, but this wasn't it. Despite Clark's simple demeanor he still half expected some big stone mansion of the kind he was used to, but instead he saw a small yellow farmhouse sitting gently on several acres. Clark had already mentioned the small home was the one his great grandfather had built and where the modest offices of Natural Earth Foods now resided, but somehow he'd pictured something larger but no less quaint. He continued past a large barn, or what used to be a barn, because now it had enclosed doors and glass windows, though it was still traditional red. The main house was in the distance and Lex thought it perfect and gorgeous. It was a sprawling craftsman style home, painted sage and trimmed in natural wood and stone. The windows were large and bright with porches that traveled along all the outside walls. It was at once impressive and warm, and very inviting. He pulled his car into the circular driveway and Clark, clad in a bright red sweater that matched his cheeks came rushing out. He looked like he just leapt out of a modern Norman Rockwell painting.

Lex stepped out of his car and Clark stopped to admire it for a moment before pulling him into an affectionate embrace that was over much too quickly. His parents stood in the doorway, both wearing genuine smiles of welcome. Clark looked a little embarrassed by his own enthusiasm and lowered his eyes a little.

"Sorry, I'm just pretty happy to be home, and happy to see you. I'm glad you got here in one piece. The roads into town were pretty icy."

Lex smiled. "Nothing she couldn't handle."

Clark moved his eyes over the car enviously. "You have to promise to take me for a ride in it after they salt the roads."

"Of course."

Clark was pulling his bag out of the back before he blinked, and walked towards the house to his waiting parents. His parents moved inside so they didn't have to be introduced in the cold air.

Clark ushered Lex in, shut the door and began the introductions, "Mom, Dad, this is Professor Luthor, and these are my parents."

His father was strikingly handsome, though in a different way than Clark, and he was just as tall. They seemed younger than he imagined, and his mother was beautiful with a full head of fiery red hair like his own had been when he was a kid.

He extended his hand. "Call me Lex, please, and it's an honor to meet both of you."

His father shook his hand firmly and his mother gave him a hug. "Its wonderful to finally meet you, Clark has told us so much, and has nothing but amazing things to say about you."

Lex didn't quite know what to say to that, so he just smiled and said "Thank you."

"Well why don't you get settled first and then we'll have lunch." His father affectionately clapped Clark on the back. "Why don't you take Lex's bags and show him his room?"

Lex tried in vain to protest, saying he could carry his own bags, but Clark was already two steps ahead of him, bounding towards the stairs. Lex quickly followed and noticed the stairs led to a sort of bridge overlooking the living room that connected to the upper level. He stood on the bridge for a moment where you could truly see the magnificence of the great room below. It was completely open and expansive, anchored by a huge two-story window and beautiful vaulted ceilings and natural wood trestles. There was a massive fireplace at the end of the room that ran up to the high ceilings. The furniture was simple, with clean lines, but looked very comfortable, and he could easily imagine Clark's long limbs stretched out on the sofa enjoying the warmth of the fire.

Clark paused to say hello to two golden retrievers that suddenly appeared on the landing. Of course, he thought, of course there'd be golden retrievers. Clark introduced them as Shelby and Shuster. He never had a pet growing up, so he wasn't sure the proper dog etiquette, but they seem satisfied with him patting their heads and allowing himself to be sniffed. Clark shooed them away and led him towards the upstairs rooms. The rooms were connected by another balcony that overlooked the huge gourmet kitchen below, that amazing smells were wafting from, reminding him how hungry he was.

Clark nudged him along to the guest room, which in keeping with the rest of the house, was large and airy and full of light. Clark placed his bag on an overstuffed chair, and gave him a brief tour.

"I think my Mom chose this one because its nearest to me—I'm across the hall—and it's the only one with an adjoining bathroom, through there. There's no TV though, because my Mom hates TVs in bedrooms, though I have one in mine."

Clark seemed much more relaxed at home, and it was Lex's turn to feel out of sorts. An awkward moment passed between them, and Clark shuffled slightly on his feet.

"I guess I'll let you get settled. Just come downstairs for lunch when you're ready, we're probably just eating in the kitchen."

Lex shook his head. "Sorry Clark, just drinking everything in I guess. Your home is amazing, I can't thank you enough for inviting me."

Clark smiled. "I'm just glad you came, and I hope we don't drive you crazy with too many Christmas traditions. You can sit out anything you don't feel like doing, but I hope you'll want to come with us to pick out the tree tonight."

"I've never picked out a tree before, but that sounds wonderful. My father always had ours delivered with a group of people to custom decorate it."

Clark looked puzzled. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I don't think my father cared much about fun." Lex didn't mean to bring his issues with his father with him, and tried to lighten the mood.

"I think its just because my mother and father used to argue so much over where to put the decorations, they decided having a neutral party was best"

Clark smiled weakly and Lex didn't think he believed him, but he gratefully let it go.

* * *

Lunch was the perfect winter meal—beef stew with potatoes and onions served over brown rice, with delicious warm fresh baked bread and butter right off their farm. It was simple and delicious and Lex couldn't remember the last time he ate so much. Clark had about two bowls, and several helpings of bread—he really missed his mother's cooking and he didn't think he'd ever get enough. He'd been nervous about what Lex would think of his family, but so far he seemed to be enjoying himself. His mother especially was adept at putting people at ease. After the first awkward moments, Lex seemed to be relaxing.

After lunch Clark wanted to show Lex his barn. It was his favorite place on the farm; his sanctuary from the outside world. Remodeling the old barn had been his father's idea and they started the project together on Clark's twelfth birthday. The project was completed two summers ago, and the plans grew as he matured. It'd be the one place he looked forward to showing Lex the most and tried to hide his anxiousness as he led him to the doors.

Lex could see how proud Clark was of the place, even though he tried to act casual about it. He still didn't know what to expect but he wasn't prepared by how elaborate the renovation had been. The heavy oak doors were fashioned to resemble real barn doors, but they opened out instead of sliding. The space was still one large open room, divided into sections by furniture, throw rugs and a loft that wrapped around the entire area. The floors were polished maple squares that were both unique and simple. The walls had been painted and no doubt insulated since it was pretty warm in there, but still retained the wooden flats of a barn. There was a flat screen TV at the opposite end of the room surrounded by overstuffed couches and two gamer chairs propped in front of the TV with three of the latest console systems. The shelves on either side were stacked with games and DVDs. When Clark led him up to the loft area, he knew right away that this was the space he loved the most. Light streamed in from the huge glass sliding-window that had a well-worn window seat. A beautiful old oak desk with a gorgeous MAC computer, another couple of couches and several bookcases completed the space. He could tell Clark spent most of his time there—it was littered a lot more personal things than the rest of the barn. Lex noticed an old revolving model of the solar system first—it seemed to be a theme judging by the posters of the solar system and planets—that sat near a giant stuffed Shark that said Metropolis Sharks on it. He wandered over to an intriguing collection of globes that took up 3 whole shelves on one bookcase.

He picked up one of them, "You collect globes?"

Clark looked slightly embarrassed and nodded. "Yeah, I've always had this thing about astronomy and geography, so every time my parents would travel they'd bring me a new globe and mark where they'd been on it."

Lex noticed small stickers on the globes now. "I have to say Clark, your parents are probably some of the most decent people I've ever met. They really seem to enjoy you."

"Don't all parents enjoy their kids?"

"Not all."

Lex picked up a framed photo of Clark and his father; Clark looked to be about 11 or 12 in the picture and they were both holding big hammers pretending to show off their muscles.

Clark came and stood beside him. "That was taken right before we hammered the first nail here—kind of our ground breaking ceremony. I remember my Mom told us to act like he-men for the picture." Clark was smiling at the memory, but looked at Lex concerned. Something was obviously wrong, but he didn't want to push too much.

"Lex…did something happen? You can tell me to shut-up if you want, but something is obviously wrong."

Lex walked away and sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry Clark, I guess I don't hide things as well as I think I do. I had an argument with my father right before I came here, and its apparently still bothering me."

Clark came and sat next to him. "If you want to talk about it…."

"I don't, not yet anyway, but I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable."

Clark gave him a small smile. "I'm not uncomfortable, just worried, but I promise I won't bring it up again. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

Clark gave his shoulder and affectionate squeeze that sent a shiver down his spine. Lex knew from experience that when he was upset he tended to do things he shouldn't—he needed not to be so close to Clark right now. He stood up and went and sat on the window seat.

"Having your own sanctuary sounds nice."

Clark nodded, thoughtfully, respecting the sudden change in topic. "It is, and we had fun building it. Oh, do you want a something to drink?"

Lex looked around, he hadn't seen a fridge. "You have a kitchen?"

Clark was on his feet. "Sort of, there's no stove, but a toaster oven and microwave; its just under the loft."

He followed Clark downstairs and there was a small kitchen with a fridge stocked with various sodas, juices and bottled water, a large toaster oven and microwave with a pantry that no doubt housed all the favorite junk food a teenage boy could want.

"You've thought of everything."

Clark laughed. "You wouldn't believe how hungry and thirsty my friends get when they hang out here, especially Pete."

"Is Pete your best friend?"

"Yeah, I've known him since I can remember. We've been in school together since kindergarten. You'll meet him tomorrow if that's OK, and my friend Chloe. They usually help me decorate the barn for Christmas, its sort of a tradition…but if you don't want to, I understand."

"Its fine with me Clark, and I don't mind meeting your friends."

"Good, I'll try to make them behave I promise."

Clark handed Lex a bottle of water and they went and sat on the couch in front of the big screen TV.

Lex nodded at the TV, " You must be the envy of every boy in town with this set up."

Clark smiled and shrugged a little. "I had to work on our farm all summer to get that.  
My Dad thought it was way too extravagant, but I really wanted one, and before I left, my friends and I had great times playing video games on the weekends –not allowed on school nights—or just watching movies. It was worth it."

Clark paused for a minute. "I'm talking to much, which is probably the first time anyone has been able to say that about me."

Lex laughed, Clark was talking about twice as much as he usually did, but he was interested in all of it and it didn't seem excessive.

"You're fine Clark, I'm asking a lot of questions."

"I guess I'm a little nervous."

That surprised Lex. "What would you be nervous about?"

Clark's uneasiness always needed a physical outlet and he promptly started toying with the fabric on the couch, Lex was certain he wasn't aware of it.

"I guess, I just want you to like us…"

Lex almost laughed out loud—he'd have to be the devil himself not to be taken in by the Kents.

"Clark, whats not to like? Your parents are wonderful; I've always liked you, and I'm sure I'll like your friends. I even like your dogs and I'm not sure I even like dogs."

Clark let go of the sofa and smiled. "I can't vouch for my friends, but who wouldn't like Shuster and Shelby?"

"Exactly, I even like their names. Relax Clark—I'm fully aware its weird to have your teacher at your home without an assignment between you."

Clark looked over at Lex thoughtfully. "True…but I honestly do think of you as a friend—if that's OK. Its feels Ok…"

Lex leaned forward a little, looking him directly in the eyes. "It is, your friendship is the thing I'm most happy about since coming to Excelsior."

Clark smiled and held his gaze, and a strange moment passed between them that Clark couldn't quite define, he looked away quickly, hoping Lex didn't notice. He stood up abruptly.

"Well, my parents are probably ready to head out to look for a tree—we need to go before it starts to get dark."

Clark started towards the door, and Lex got up slowly. Whatever minor thing that just happened between them couldn't be good, and Lex thought he should find an excuse to leave; some emergency, but that would be extremely rude and nothing was worse doing that to them. So he silently followed Clark outside determined to strengthen his resolve to have a nice, uneventful Christmas.


	13. Chapter 13

The sun had barely appeared in the sky when Clark awoke the next morning. He'd had this weird habit of waking up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve since he was a kid. In some ways he preferred the day before Christmas to the main event. Christmas was fun in the morning, but then there was the cavalcade of neighbors and friends coming by the house all day and well into evening. Then they'd have this big Christmas dinner for 30 or so guests, by the time dinner was over Clark was usually ready to retreat to the barn for some quiet and solitude. He hoped all the festivities wouldn't overwhelm Lex, but he imagined he was used to excessive entertaining. Christmas Eve was traditionally just the family and one or two close friends. They usually spent the day cooking and eating—he and his father doing most of the eating, and maybe watching Christmas movies or sports. He could already smell the first batch of sugar cookies baking downstairs. He smiled and sat up slowly in bed; he almost wished he'd never have to return to Excelsior.

He and Lex had gone to bed late, so he decided to bypass the guest room and let him sleep in. They'd stayed up in the barn playing video games and talking after Chloe had finally gone home. Their meeting had gone as well as could be expected. Chloe of course asked him for an exclusive for the school paper (which he knew she would immediately try and shop around to the Daily Planet) and Lex turned her down politely, not seeming that put out by the suggestion to Clark's relief. Once they were all inside the barn and he and his father had gotten the gigantic tree standing, everyone began to relax. Clark had been on edge since the small incident at the tree farm.

It seemed like the entire town was out that night looking for the perfect tree. The area was littered with Dad's wielding axes and kids running around having snowball fights. As they hadn't been in town in months, several neighbors descended upon the whole family as soon as they parked the car. Clark introduced Lex as his professor visiting for the holidays to everyone who'd stared long enough to warrant an introduction. The name "Luthor" didn't go unnoticed by anyone, though they did their best to hide their surprise. After several handshakes Clark mercifully steered them away from the crowd.

While his parents entertained the neighbors and looked for a tree for the main house, he and Lex set off to find one for the barn. After 20 minutes of searching, Clark finally spotted the perfect tree—at 15 foot Fraser Fir—in his excitement he swung the axe with almost his full force and the tree was felled with one smooth motion, nearly falling on a surprised Lex. Clark moved a little too quickly and pulled him out of the way and for the rest of the evening he worried whether Lex had noticed or not. Chloe's presence and boxes full of gaudy decorations had distracted him for a while, but it was there, lurking in the back of his mind, causing him to constantly search Lex's face for any evidence that he was looking at him differently.

But today, as the inviting smell of warm sugar wafted through the house, nothing would dampen his mood.

* * *

 

Clark ran down the back staircase stopping at the tray of cookies his mother had just taken out of the oven.

"Don't you dare."

When she looked again there were 2 cookies missing and Clark was licking the last of the crumbs off his lips.

"Clark! You haven't had breakfast yet."

He smiled brightly. "Cookies for breakfast sound good to me." He reached for another.

"Clark if you touch another cookie I'll forget about making cinnamon waffles this morning."

He immediately stepped away from the tray. His mother hit him with a dishtowel and laughed.

"Did you guys have fun last night?"

He pushed the tray further away from him to avoid temptation. "Yeah, I think Lex enjoyed it. Chloe talked a lot, but that's normal, and she managed not to give Lex the third degree about his life."

"What about Pete? Did he get along with Lex?"

"Pete couldn't come; he was grounded, something about sneaking into a bar with his older brothers."

Martha shook her head. "I hope Pete doesn't try and talk you into sneaking into a bar."

Clark shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway, I can't get drunk."

His mother eyed him suspiciously. "And how do you know that?"

He suddenly became very interested in the marble counter. "Um…well I'm just guessing…I mean it makes sense…"

His mother raised an eyebrow. "Just guessing huh?" But she gratefully let it go and went back to preparing the waffle batter.

Lex stood on the walkway above the kitchen watching the scene below. He laughed a little at Clark inadvertently admitting to underage drinking in front of his mother, though he was curious why he was unable to get drunk. Maybe it had something to do with what happened in the woods the night before. No boy of 16 no matter how tall and broad should be able to chop down a tree with one swing—no full-grown man either for that matter. And how he moved—so quick that the wind stirred around them. It reminded him of the day he first saw Clark in the fields outside of school. He'd spotted him for a brief second and suddenly he was gone. Everyone knew of the rumors of the strange things that went on in Smallville—about how bizarre some of its citizens were, and he wondered if Clark was among them. Not that he cared, he really didn't. He liked Clark a great deal; almost too much, and that's all he cared about.

Hanging out with him and Chloe had been firm slap back into reality. Just seeing Clark giggle and tease Chloe, whom he was completely relaxed around, unlike his friends at Excelsior, brought home just how young Clark really was. Lex had fun with them, but he admitted to being a little bored decorating the barn eventually, while Clark and Chloe entertained themselves with finding new excuses to throw garland at each other, and overindulge in pizza.

But when it was just the two of them later in the evening, Clark showed a side of himself that maybe even Chloe wasn't privy too. Clark was sober, but warm and at ease with him, and they could talk for hours without noticing the time passing. In those moments he forgot that Clark was a 16yr old kid, just a very close friend. They'd lazily played his Playstation, neither one trying very hard at winning, while Clark sat close to him with long legs stretched out across the ottoman. Any anxiety Clark felt earlier after the tree farm seemed to be long gone. Lex knew that if Clark was a 21-yr old guy he'd just met, there'd be no question where the evening would have ended up, but his age and the fact that he was his student made things too complicated. Lex sighed, watching Clark move around the kitchen in a t-shirt and loose sweatpants. He pushed all annoying thoughts out of his head and went down and joined them.

* * *

Clark led the way to the horse stables after a generous breakfast of way too many waffles, fruit, and biscuits slathered in honey and butter. Breakfast was awkward at first with Lex being too formal and his parents being overly friendly, but eventually they'd all relaxed and talked with ease. He really wanted his parents to like Lex, though he couldn't be sure why. He thought it would somehow benefit Lex to have someone like his parents to depend on, because his own family seemed something out of a Dickens nightmare.

Since his parents declared driving around in the Porsche on the still icy roads out of the question, Clark decided a good way to see their land and some of Smallville was on horseback. Pretty much every boy who went to prep school near Metropolis knew how to ride, so he thought it was a safe bet Lex could handle himself on a horse. He gave Lex his pick, and Clark saddled both.

"They're Western, is that Ok?"

Lex nodded. "My family had a ranch in Wyoming for a while, when it was fashionable. I'm pretty sure my father was just looking for oil, when he didn't find it, he sold the place."

Lex said it lightly, and Clark tried to smile unsuccessfully. "Lex…was your father as terrible as they say?"

Lex wished now he hadn't said anything, but the contrast between his family and the Kents was too sharp and it brought back old pains he thought were long buried.

He nodded slowly, "I'm sorry to keep bringing him up—I can't seem to help it."

"No, its Ok, and you don't always have to make a joke about it. My Dad always says 'better out than in', so if you ever want to vent, I'll listen."

Lex nodded, avoiding direct eye contact. "Thanks Clark, I appreciate it."

They headed over the land towards Burnham woods. He watched Lex closely on the descent down to the river, fearful of a repeat of what happened back at school with Eddie. But Lex made it down without incident, and the stopped to let the horses drink from a small break in the icy lake. They sat on a large boulder along the bank, just drinking in the surroundings.

"I never realized Smallville was so beautiful."

Clark nodded. "I guess I've taken it for granted too, but being away from it so long—its suddenly feels like the best place on earth. I mean I've been all over the place, even overseas, but I like it here best—kinda lame huh?"

"No, it just means you have a place that really feels like home, not everyone has that."

Clark didn't say anything for a moment, letting the silence just hang in the air. There was so much more he wanted to know about Lex, but he seemed to be surrounded in this impenetrable mystery.

"You don't have any place you think of as home?"

"Not really, the Luthor home was too formal to feel much like a real home, even when my mother was alive, but who knows, maybe one day I'll find that place."

Clark looked at him sympathetically. "You can always borrow mine, seriously, you're welcome here anytime."

Lex leaned back on the rock, looking up towards the tip of the evergreens that surrounded them. "Thanks, you're a good friend."

Clark looked away, mumbling "Not always."

"What do you mean?"

He wasn't sure why his mood suddenly darkened; maybe it was being reminded of the incident with Eddie when he'd pushed all thoughts of Excelsior out of his mind for the past 48 hours.

"Sorry…I was just thinking about school and the mistakes I've made with people there."

Lex wasn't sure where this was coming from, but he sensed Clark wanted to talk to him about something even before the holidays.

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it's new for me…having trouble making friends. I mean I consider Braden my friend, but he's my roommate…and I don't know if I've made any real effort to make any other friends, and the first term is already over."

"Clark, they haven't exactly made it easy for you, and most of them have been together since 6th grade, it's hard being the new kid."

"Maybe…"

Lex leaned forward to look at Clark.

"Clark, what's really bothering you? Because you don't seem the type to worry about how many friends you have."

Clark's throat went dry—this was it, he could finally say it out loud, get it out of his head so it would stop torturing him—but what if it just brought up a whole new set of problems? What if Lex didn't understand the way he needed him to?

He glanced at Lex, but the words wouldn't come. Instead he shrugged. "I don't know…Braden was going through some stuff, and I wish I could have been there for him more…"

"Anything serious?"

"I don't know, maybe—I mean nothing dangerous, just…I guess I understand what its like to be afraid of what you are, or what you think you are—and maybe I could have helped him somehow…but I don't even really know if I can help myself."

Lex took a deep breath, he immediately flashed back to that night when he came upon Clark and Braden in the woods, and had a pretty good idea what was torturing Clark.

"You told me your father said "better out than in", that invitation to vent goes both ways."

Clark stared at the frozen lake, avoiding his eyes, and Lex watched his cheeks color with obvious discomfort.

"I just…I have some questions about my…sexuality."

Clark waited for the earth to open beneath his feet or the sky to swallow him whole, but the only thing that stirred was the wind in the trees and a hawk somewhere off in the distance. More importantly Lex didn't jump to his feet to get away from him as quickly as possible. He remained a quiet presence that provided him with safety net he needed.

When Lex finally answered, he spoke slowly, looking directly at him. "Clark, all I know is 16 is a tricky age. You'll go through a lot of feelings, some so strong you think they're a permanent part of who you are, but trust me, nothing is set in stone right now, so I'd be careful about jumping to any conclusions no matter now concrete the evidence might seem."

Clark looked at him hopefully, though the burden he carried around was clearly etched on his face.

"..But if whatever you fear turns out to be true, you'll still be you, and I think everyone who knows and loves you, won't think of you any differently. I know I wouldn't."

He tried to smile. "Thanks Lex…" He ran his hand through his hair roughly. "God…all I need is another thing about me to be different."

He knew Clark probably hadn't meant to say that and he decided not to acknowledge the implications.

"There's nothing wrong with being different Clark, I mean you don't get much more different than me, and somehow I survived."

Clark looked at him warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's probably why I like you so much."

The warmth quickly faded and distress again took over his features. Clark tried his best to shake it off; he could feel his emotions pushing to the surface, and he didn't want to lose it in front of Lex. He wondered when he'd have control again—his moods were all over the place lately, though he hadn't felt like this since he'd come back to Smallville. He looked down at the frozen ground, but Lex must have seen his eyes because he suddenly pulled him into a rough hug.

Clark welcomed the embrace, and Lex allowed himself this one intimacy because he knew Clark needed it—so he told himself. He whispered with as much conviction as he could that "It would be Ok."

Clark relaxed a little in his arms and he could tell Clark didn't completely let go, but he hoped he helped in some way. When Clark finally pulled away, his eyes were still full of unshed tears, but he gave Lex a small smile and whispered 'thank you'. They were inches away from each other and Lex knew he should move, but he could feel Clark's warm breath against his skin and it would have taken two armies to get him to turn away. He reached over and brushed back a mass of curls that had fallen across his forehead. Clark didn't even flinch and Lex inched closer. For a moment Clark thought maybe he had misinterpreted his feelings for Lex…maybe he considered him more than a friend, so when Lex's lips touched his, he didn't move away, but leaned forward, curious, while a small pool of heat settled in his abdomen. It felt—strange and not like kissing a girl. It was rougher and clumsier, but somehow nice. Lex pulled away first; abruptly, standing up quickly.

If he had hair on his head he would have ripped it out in frustration.

"My God, Clark, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"

Clark himself had snapped back to reality and sat in stunned silence, his whole head was buzzing and his heart seemed bound loudly in his ears, almost drowning out Lex's rattling apologies. It was the first time he'd ever really seen Lex unhinged and he almost found it funny. So he laughed—what was the expression? 'laugh to keep from crying'.

The sound stopped Lex dead in his tracks. "Clark…what are you..? This isn't funny—what I did…"

Clark looked up at him, but he was no longer smiling. "No, I guess it isn't funny. I don't know what it is. Why does everything have to be so confusing?"

"No, Clark, its my fault, I shouldn't have done that."

Clark didn't know what to say—he didn't understand why Lex did it, or what it meant, but refused to let him feel bad.

"I didn't mind. I think I wanted to, I mean I was curious what it'd be like. I'm just glad it was you and not someone else who would have punched me or something."

Lex looked at him incredulously, mentally packing his bags and making plans for a hasty exit.

"Clark, you are 16, and my student, what I just allowed to happen isn't right."

He knew if he didn't make some sort of gesture, all of this would end badly so, he stood up and walked over to Lex, touching his arm gently to stop him from pacing.

"Please don't be upset. I know how old I am, and its not like you're some 50 yr old pervert. We're friends—before student, teacher, anything else, we're friends, and this isn't school. You were just trying to make me feel better…its Ok, I promise. We never have to mention it again."

Lex just stared at Clark. He expected a lot of reactions when the moment came when he finally forgot himself—but not this. Clark didn't hate him, or try to hit him, or threaten to have his parents call the Dean. He just stood there smiling like it was just a simple occurrence between friends.

"Are you sure about this? Because I'd understand if you wanted me to leave."

Clark nodded. "I think you're making too big a deal out of this. Trust me, I've had way more embarrassing situations than this. I want you to stay."

He was no doubt referring to his 'moment' with Braden in the woods, and Lex was immediately relieved, but it didn't mean he felt he could take things further, if anything he now had to be extra careful around Clark.

"Its getting dark, we should probably get the horses back, and its almost time for dinner anyway."

They both mounted the horses, and Clark led the way out of the forest and the sun began to slip beneath the trees.


	14. Chapter 14

Christmas Eve dinner that night was as impressive as any holiday dinner at the governor's mansion. There was a long table set up in the formal dining room—an expansive room towards the back of the house that was surrounded by large windows, so you had the feeling you were almost floating on the snow. The effect was beautiful; the candles shimmered against the glass and the fireplace at the end of the room glowed in the dim light. There were 28 guests and the food overflowed onto long sideboards against the far wall. Most of the dishes were catered, but Mrs. Kent herself had made all the pies and the 3 large turkeys.

The minute they returned to the house they were both doled out duties in quick succession. Mr. Kent looked at Lex sympathetically and said, "Don't ask questions just do as she asks, or the consequences will be dire." Which got him whacked in the head with a potholder by a passing Mrs. Kent. Clark just laughed and pulled Lex into the kitchen to assist him in cutting fruit for too many pies. They were taken off pie duty when Mrs. Kent noticed Clark was eating more blueberries and apples than were going in the pies. There was still a lot to be done that afternoon so they were steered towards the great room—there were garlands to rearrange, floors to sweep and lights to be strung along the banisters.

Lex had never witnessed a true Rockwellian Christmas before and he had to admit he enjoyed every minute of it. The formalities were gone and Mrs. Kent was ordering him around like he was part of the family, and he and Clark shared rolled eyed glances and laughter as they helped turn the Kent home into a Christmas spectacular even Martha Stewart would envy.

About an hour before the guests arrived, Clark pulled him upstairs to change, telling him he hoped he had something red in there, because his mother was very insistent they wear Christmas colors. All Clark seemed to wear was red and blue, so he knew he'd have no problem producing something appropriate, but Lex's wardrobe rarely ventured beyond black and deep maroons. Clark studied his suitcase with concern.

"Maybe you can borrow something of mine."

Lex laughed. "That'd be great except you're a lot broader than me and taller by at least 3 inches, besides, bright colors don't really go with pale skin."

Clark held his own red sweater against Lex and made a face. "Well, maybe my mother won't care if you wear your own stuff."

Lex snatched the sweater out of his hand and hit him with it. Clark laughed and headed off to his room, he guessed to put on a sweater with light up reindeer antlers or something. Lex ended up choosing a dark gray shirt that shimmered enough in the right light to be called festive and black pants. When Clark emerged he wasn't wearing one of those irritating Christmas sweater but a very tasteful deep red turtleneck and black thinly corded pants. The red made his eyes look almost blue and played up the natural blush of his cheeks—he looked gorgeous, and definitely not like a 16 yr old boy. When Clark walked back into his room, Lex had to busy himself with putting his clothes away to keep from staring.

"I think Mom wants us downstairs for finishing touches." Clark took in Lex's outfit. "I think she will approve, its sort of silver."

"I hope so, I wouldn't want to incur the wrath of Martha Kent."

* * *

The house looked amazing and Mrs. Kent went around adjusting garland and ribbons adorning every conceivable space, which somehow looked elegant and not gaudy. She looked beautiful in a red silk damask suit, which made her hair look like a glorious flame a top her head. Her husband soon emerged wearing a dark suit and a green silk tie looking as tall and handsome as his son. They really were a ridiculously stunning family.

After the guests arrived, the evening was in full swing, and music seemed to float out of the walls. Cocktails and hors d'oeuvres were served in the great room and in the heated sunroom, whose ceiling was adorned with fairy lights and pine garland making it look like the forest sky at night.

Once the party started and all the activity of the day was done Clark felt the mood he'd conjured to make Lex feel better slipping away. He tried his best to smile at all the people who said how good it was to see him, or how tall he'd gotten. He left Lex on his own, though he knew it was probably rude of him, but he wasn't sure if he could concentrate on being as cheerful as he needed to be with Lex around, and he saw that people approached him eagerly and he seemed to be handling himself well. Its not like people in Smallville were as vicious as he knew people in Metropolis could be.

Lex mingled with the guests, occasionally talking to Mr. Kent, relating to him finally that they'd met before, the day of the meteor shower, though he didn't remember much about it, only that he liked him then and it was the one pleasant memory of the day. He watched Clark move through the crowd with a bright, very fake smile planted on his face and he knew he was avoiding him. He imagined the events of earlier were finally sinking in, and he braced himself for Clark's true reaction when the time came.

As the evening wore on, the champagne started to flow and most guest finally left him alone, Clark seized his opportunity and slipped out on the back porch to get some air. He really wished Pete and Chloe had been able to come, but Chloe's Dad decided they would spend the holidays visiting relatives in Metropolis, and Pete's family was so large they kept their holiday celebrations within the immediate family. He really could have used the distraction. Anything to keep him from dwelling on the events earlier in the day would have been appreciated. So Lex had kissed him— _Professor Luthor_  had kissed him, and he'd allowed it and maybe welcomed it. The event shook him a lot more than he let on. Was it a firm confirmation that he was attracted to boys? Who did he believe—his brain or his body? He wished he could know for certain, but Lex's speech about not trusting his actions and desires right now only confused him more. He had no idea if what he felt was passion—it had only felt different and not unpleasant.

Why had he never noticed Lex was attracted to him? More than anything, he hated that all of Braden's hints and warnings had been correct. Still, he wasn't angry or scared, he trusted Lex. Whether that was foolish he didn't know, but he had no desire to end their friendship or make Lex feel like a criminal. There were too many layers to this situation that bothered him, and he didn't know on what level the mere fact that Lex kissed him fell. More important than anything he wanted to know the truth, and at some point it had to become clear whether or not he was truly attracted to boys, and maybe Lex could help him discover that.

"Clark?"

Clark turned around; his Dad was standing in the doorway.

"Guests are starting to head out, why don't you come in and say goodbye."

He nodded and started towards the door.

"Clark, you ok?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well you just disappeared and left Lex on his own, I known he's a grown man, but that's not like you."

Parents never miss anything.

"I'm sorry…I just wanted some air, and he seemed fine." He wished for once he could use the common human excuse of "I'm tired."

His father stood aside beckoning him in. "Still, there's no reason to be rude, son. Come inside. "

Clark, looking dejected, followed, but his father grabbed his shoulder and said directly into his ear.

"Once the guests are gone, we have something that will cheer you up."

Clark looked puzzled, but went to find Lex.

Lex looked to be in a deep uncomfortable conversation with Mrs. Lillard. The minute he saw Clark, he looked like he'd just been thrown a life preserver. Clark laughed a little and approached Mrs. Lillard, who immediately lit up when she saw him, and Lex was free to move on. After the last person was ushered out the door and the caterers began to clear up, his parents sat heavily on the couch, tired but beaming at what a success the evening had been. Clark and Lex were in the kitchen picking at leftovers while the catering crew swathed everything in aluminum foil and plastic wrap.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you."

Lex swallowed the last bite of a mini-crab cake. "I didn't even notice. I've been to many parties Clark, I didn't expect you to stay glued to my hip, and your parent's friends are perfectly nice."

The truth was Lex suspected that despite his brave face earlier in the evening, Clark was avoiding him. He knew it was only a matter of time before everything sunk in. Even now Clark was far from relaxed and a little fidgety.

"Still, I was a bad host, so I'm sorry."

Lex nodded. "Apology accepted."

Clark's father calling from the other room broke the growing tension. They both walked into the great room to find his father standing there looking at them with controlled excitement, and he was trying unsuccessfully to keep a smile off his face. Something was obviously up.

"Clark, could you and Lex take the leftovers out to the garage? I want to pack up the truck and take the food over to the shelter tonight."

"Even those little chocolate cake things?"

"Clark…"

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Sure Dad….why are you looking like that?"

"What? Oh no reason…I mean like what?"

Clark shook his head thinking maybe his father had one glass of champagne too many and headed back to the kitchen. When he and Lex opened the garage door with arms laden with tins of food, Clark nearly dropped his load when he saw what was parked inside. The whole house shook with his very loud exclamation.

"Holy Shit!!..Oh God! Sorry, sorry!!"

Lex burst out with a rare laugh because Clark looked so excited he thought he was going to explode. He ran over to the brand new red Ford Expedition with the big blue bow on its roof practically leaping.

His parents were already in the doorway but they both were laughing and shaking their heads. The minute he saw them he ran over and gave them bear hugs, kisses, and "I love yous."

His father handed the keys over to him. "I know its not quite midnight, but we couldn't wait."

"I don't believe it! You said I had to work another summer to get a car."

His mother was laughing now. "Your father and I decided that it's been a rough few months and we thought you deserved something extra special this year."

He looked over at Lex with a grin that lit up his entire face—it was infectious. "Don't I have the best parents ever?"

Lex had to agree. "You going to test drive it or not?"

He looked back at his parents for permission and his mother nodded. "Just don't stay out too late and be careful on the roads."

He motioned for Lex to hop in the passenger seat, and started beaming again when he discovered the car had a push-button start.

"Oh man, Pete is going to die when he sees this!"

* * *

They barely got down the driveway before Clark started excitedly exclaiming every time he discovered a new feature on the car. Even Lex was impressed by the built in navigation screen and dvd players. Apparently the Kents spared no expense. Clark was still smiling as they drove along route 8, and Lex was grateful he could just share in Clark's elation and not worry about anything else for the moment.

He thought back to his first car and wondered if he'd been anywhere near as happy as Clark was. He remembered thinking he should be—how many 16 yr olds owned a Porsche; a vintage model at that. But his father hadn't even been there when he received it. There'd been no bow or fanfare, just a note attached to a set of keys along side his breakfast that morning, saying how sorry he was he would be out of town on his birthday, but he was certain his present would more than make up for it. His birthday had fallen on a Saturday that year and he was home from Excelsior to celebrate, but he ended up taking the car out alone for a dangerous spin alone, returning later to cut the cake with the maid and sneaking a bottle of his father's best scotch into his room, which he paid for dearly the next time he came home. The Porsche had at least scored him some points at school, making his life a bit more tolerable for a couple of weeks.

"I guess we should head back, you must be tired."

It took him a moment to realize Clark was talking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm going to head back."

"Drive as long and far as you want I'm fine. These seats are actually very comfortable."

Clark smiled again. "I know, I can't believe they got the leather seats. I can't believe they got this  _car_ , I never thought in a million years they would. I mean its what I wanted, even though I thought they would insist on a hybrid—and I thought I'd have to work until I graduated college to afford it. My Dad said he would match whatever I made, but I'm nowhere near covering half of what this cost. And he got it fully loaded!"

"Maybe they just wanted to see you happy."

"Maybe…I guess in some way they feel bad about sending me away to school, but I insisted, so I hope they're not feeling too guilty. Anyway, this makes up for not being to go skiing over New Years."

"You were going skiing."

Clark nodded. "Yeah, in Aspen; it was a surprise for Chloe and Pete too. My parents were even renting us a place of our own next to theirs. I was really looking forward to it, but then I slammed Jesse with the snowball…and that was the end of that."

"That's too bad, I mean it wasn't really your fault."

Clark turned the truck towards Main Street, smiling as it shifted gears and guided effortlessly.

"Yeah, but it was—I get that now, though at the time I was really angry and thinking how unfair it was, but the truth is, I didn't have to retaliate, I could have walked away."

Lex looked a little surprised. "Then you're mature beyond your years. I'm glad you hit him personally; someone needed to."

Clark smiled but didn't' say anything and they rode in silence for a while, as he passed all the dark windows along main street illuminated by colorful lights and blinking signs wishing everyone 'Merry Christmas'.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Clark glanced at Lex but shook his head, "Not really."

"Normally I'd respect your wishes, but I honestly think we should. I crossed a line I shouldn't have crossed and I'm sorry."

Clark steered the car over to the curb and cut the engine. He really didn't want to talk about it, but he knew they should or it'd be this thing wedged between them and they'd have to pretend their way around it.

"You wanted to kiss me?"

Lex wasn't sure if he was prepared to answer that, but he nodded. "Yes, for some time."

"You never said anything…"

Lex sighed and shivered slightly, which made Clark turn the battery on in the car so the heat would work.

"Thanks…no, I didn't because I was too bothered by even thinking it, and I fully intended to control my actions…so I'm sorry Clark, I really am, I hope you can forgive me."

"So you're attracted to me?"

Lex nodded, he could feel the air restricting around him; he never wanted to have this conversation with Clark. He always intended to suffer in silence until he graduated, but now his own inability to ignore what he really wanted had caused a huge problem.

Clark leaned back in the chair, looking straight ahead at the road. It'd started to snow again. He didn't speak for a moment, because he wanted to understand how he felt about what Lex did. He thought he should be scared, hurt or outraged, but he was none of those things. At that moment all he felt was compassion for Lex and a little confused.

"I meant what I said when it happened. It really is Ok, but you can beat yourself up if you want. Everyone does things they don't intend to. It happens, and I'm fine—not scarred for life or anything." Clark turned to him and smiled.

"Clark you don't have to make me feel better, I want to know how you really feel."

His smile faded quickly, but he turned back to face him. "The truth is, I'm not sure, but I know I'm not angry or upset…just a little confused…but there's part of me that isn't, and maybe I'm not ready to face that part yet. What I do know is I like you and respect you and that hasn't changed."

Lex felt a surge of emotion he hadn't felt in a very long time and he quickly suppressed it.

When he trusted his voice he finally spoke. "Thank you Clark, it means a lot."

Clark nodded with a gentle smile before putting the car back into drive and heading home.


	15. Chapter 15

Lex wrapped the fleece throw tighter around himself. He should have put his coat on; he'd underestimated the stifling chill of an early morning in Kansas. The sun was just peaking over the horizon and sky was a deep azure with a pink and orange fissure cracking its surface. He'd given up on sleeping about an hour before and ventured onto the small balcony off the long hallway upstairs, not far from his room.

Underneath the blanket, his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, straining the fabric. All the tension he'd felt over the last 48 hrs seemed to culminate in his fingers causing him to grip the cell phone in his pocket with almost crushing force. His face remained calm; his body remained perfectly still as he watched the land come to life under the lightening sky. It could be supposed the reason for his anxiety was housed in his phone. If he turned it on he'd see the message in large text flashing across his screen that he had three messages—all from his father. His father was methodical even in the simple task of harassing his son. The calls were spaced out in three hour intervals, so by the 3rd call, Lex felt the anxiety as the time approached for the next call, though he refused to turn on his phone. When they arrived back out the house, he checked his messages. And there was that  _tone_ he hated so much. That voice as smooth an calm as an executioners—each polite word a veiled threat. He had no choice but to return his call before the day was over. He finally let the phone slip from his hand. Lionel Luthor could wait.

He went back inside, walking towards the strong aroma of coffee brewing in the kitchen as quietly as he could, passing Clark's door that sat slightly afar. He went to close it but paused caught by the sight of Clark sprawled on his stomach across his bed, clad in only plaid boxers with the covers pushed off. His legs were covered by a mass of dark blonde fur—he didn't know if it was Shuster or Shelby, while the other dog slept curled on a rug by the side of the bed. None of them stirred as he lingered in the doorway taking in the expanse of smooth skin and muscles that moved gently with each deep breath he took. His face looked soft and young beneath his mop of dark hair and it amazed Lex how someone who was always so careful in his waking hours could look so peaceful while he slept. Lex shook his head—this infatuation needed to end and standing there watching him sleep wouldn't help. Clark stirred and readjusted his head on the pillow, and Lex tore himself away shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Clark awoke to the smell of cinnamon waffles and maple butter—that sweet scent of so many Christmas mornings wafted under his door causing a slow, drowsy smile to spread across his face. Christmas was his absolute favorite holiday; a complete cliché but he loved it. Christmas Day was particularly special because it usually involved just his family and closest friends. Both his parents were only children, and his Dad's parents died long before he came along, and his only grandfather was estranged from the family depending on whether or not he was fighting with his father.

Grandfather Clark from what he'd gathered over the years didn't approve of his mother marrying a hick farmer from a small town. And even when his Dad proved to be more than just a farmer, William Clark attributed their success to his mother's business acumen and thought his father was simply riding on her coattails, which of course infuriated him. He hadn't seen his grandfather since his 13th birthday and judging by the last heated argument he'd overheard, he might not see him for a very long time. But the three of them with the occasional friend or neighbor thrown in had always been enough to make a memorable Christmas.

That's what he was going to focus on today, just enjoying the holiday, and he hoped the talk he had with Lex the night before settled a few things and any awkwardness would pass. He was genuinely happy Lex was there to share Christmas with them and he didn't want to ruin it.

He hopped out of bed followed quickly by Shuster, and Shelby who was already waiting patiently by the bed. He reached down and ruffled their fur affectionately then disappeared for a split second to grab his red Smallville-High track pants from the closet. He slipped a white tee over his head and led them out the door.

To his surprise, Lex was already sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and chatting with his mother, who was fully dressed in bright Christmas green and moving around the kitchen preparing breakfast. She smiled brightly when she saw him enter the room with dogs in tow.

"Merry Christmas sleepy head. I was just about to send Lex upstairs to wake you; its almost 8:30."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

Clark quickly fed the dogs, setting their red and green bowls on the floor—his mother's Christmas décor knew no limits.

Clark grabbed some coffee and joined Lex at the kitchen island, nudging him gently with his elbow.

"Merry Christmas and thanks for showing me up by getting up before me. You sleep Ok?"

"Yeah, I'm just used to getting up insanely early I guess; you on the other hand…"

Clark looked at him pointedly, glancing quickly at his mother. "I've only been late for your class twice."

His mother placed a plate of warm sugar cookies shaped like Christmas trees and snowmen in front of them.

"Clark, do you mean to tell me your chronic tardiness has followed you to Excelsior?"

"I'm not a morning person."

His mother shook her head. "One day you're going to have a boss who isn't going to care about you not being a morning person. And don't roll your eyes if you expect to be able to open a single present under that tree."

Clark looked up sheepishly. "I know Mom, sorry."

Lex gave him a sympathetic look, but Clark only glared at him evilly and downed his coffee in one long gulp.

Lex looked alarmed, "Clark! Isn't that hot?!"

Clark looked positively stricken and Lex thought he saw all the color drain from his face.

"I…um..no, I mean its not hot…it had cooled off.."

His mother, who looked equally pale suddenly, choked out a beat too late. "Honey are you Ok?"

Clark nodded blankly fighting to regain his composure. Lex wasn't sure what just happened because a second earlier he could still see hot steam billowing from his cup, but he knew it had something to do with what happened back at school and the incident involving cutting down the Christmas tree.

Clark got up quickly and put his cup in the sink, wishing his pulse would slow down. He could be so careless sometimes. How could he just forget? He'd become so comfortable with Lex he'd let his guard down, something he knew he should never do, not even with his closest friends. Maybe he was making too much of it; he was certainly creating more suspicion. Besides, Lex wasn't the enemy; he needed to calm down. He turned and smiled feebly at Lex and grabbed a cookie off the plate, rejoining him at the counter.

Lex looked at both of them oddly, but said nothing. After several minutes, his mother was the first to break the tension.

"Clark, could you and Lex set the table for breakfast? The plates are in the sideboard."

"Sure Mom." Clark jumped up immediately, and Lex followed.

Clark began pulling white plates covered in holly and cranberries onto the table, avoiding Lex's steady gaze.

"Clark, are you sure you're Ok?"

He nodded, "I'm fine"

Lex took a plate out of his hand and lowered his voice. "But, how could you not burn your throat? That coffee was piping hot."

Clark looked at him calmly, but Lex could see a pleading his eyes. "It really wasn't, I swear, or I'm just used to drinking really hot coffee."

Lex could see Clark wanted him to drop it, so he nodded and shrugged. "I guess I'm making too much of it."

Clark smiled at him tightly and went back to setting the table.

* * *

Breakfast was delicious, and full of the best waffles Lex had probably ever eaten. His father, oblivious to the earlier incident kept the mood light and soon Clark and his mother were laughing at stories from Christmases past. After breakfast they adjourned to the great room and sat on the settees around the tree. The tree was impressive even in the morning light. It stood twelve feet high and every blade of pine glittered and twinkled in the sun. There were ornaments clearly made by a much younger Clark, and some that were probably family heirlooms. Despite its magnificence it still seemed warm and familial.

Clark's father had appointed himself Santa and was handing out the gifts. Clark wasn't expecting much else since his Christmas Eve gift had been so extravagant, but his parents surprised him with a new laptop (he'd been wanting to switch to a Mac) and an astronomy camera to take pictures of the very images he'd viewed through his telescope since he was a kid, which he was extremely excited over, and the requisite sweaters, fuzzy socks, pajamas and new down coat—in red of course. He hugged his parents long and cheerfully, exclaiming over each new gift.

His parents gave Lex a simple Tumi messenger briefcase, which was both youthful and stylish. Lex surprisingly really liked it, normally he tended to go for the same things 40 yr old corporate lawyers used, but this bag made more sense on prep school campus and more befitting his age.

"Thank you Mr and Mrs. Kent. You didn't need to get me a present."

Mr. Kent brushed him off. "Don't be ridiculous, its not a big deal, I just swear by that brand, and you can never have too many of them. I hope you like it, but you can exchange it for any bag you want."

Lex ran his finger down the single maroon leather stripe on the flap. "Its perfect, I love it."

He'd gotten them simple but practical gifts; Mrs. Kent he got a set of Le Creuset pots in bright orange to match her hair, since Clark talked about his mother's cooking non-stop. For Mr. Kent he got :.a world-traveler watch, that matched his own. Clark was the only student he'd seen not wandering the grounds with an iPod, so he got him a video classic one and loaded three of his favorite books on it, and as a small joke he got him a Warrior Angel alarm clock that illuminated the time in bright red on the ceiling.

Clark laughed and shook his head. "My gift is going to seem so lame now."

"Nonsense, hand it over."

Clark reached under the tree and pulled out a small red package wrapped by his own hands, very sloppily with a big green bow.

Clark shrugged. "I'm not a good wrapper."

Lex tore open the gift and inside was three copies of Warrior Angel comes; his favorite issues, all signed by the artist. His mind immediately raced back to the time when he was 12 and there was a comic convention in Metropolis and that same artist was doing a signing. He'd begged his father to take him, but his father refused, saying his obsession with comic book characters was unbecoming a Luthor. He'd taken to hiding his collection after that just in case. But it was if Clark had managed to travel back in time and grant him his wish.

"This is amazing Clark, seriously…thank you. I think I got the better end of the deal."

Clark exhaled, relieved, he'd been so worried Lex would think the gift childish. "My Dad got a bunch signed for me when they were on a trip to California. They had some huge comic convention in San Diego and Dad stood in line for like 2 hrs to get them signed."

Jonathan laughed, but one look at Lex's face and he knew no other gift could have measured up. He'd only formally met Lionel Luthor once, and run into him on occasion, but he could never shake the memory of the careless way he treated Lex; like he was a commodity and not a child. Who'd have thought later that same day their lives would be changed irrevocably—theirs for the better; better than they could have ever hoped—and Lex's for the worse.

"I was happy to do it. I had fun looking at all the odd costumes everywhere. People sure go all out for those things."

"We should go sometime; it could be fun."

Lex finally tore his eyes away from the comic, "Yeah, it would be fun."

They finished opening the remaining presents and then Mrs. Kent brought in some cookies and hot chocolate. Clark lit a fire and they sat around for a while chatting, lazily and inspecting their gifts.

"Pete's coming over in a little while, I should get dressed. Lex you want to come over to the barn with me? I'm going to take the truck down there so Pete can see it."

Lex got up. "Of course. I'll be happy to help you gloat."

Lex looked over at Mr. Kent, who gave him a small smile that was so warm it felt like an embrace. He returned the smile quickly, wondering if he'd make it through the day without an emotional outburst, and followed Clark upstairs.

* * *

Clark let Lex drive the three minutes to the barn, and he had to admit, having never sat behind a wheel of anything larger than a Boxter, it wasn't what he expected. In his brief fling with the auto it handled surprisingly well without the slightest hint of sliding on the icy driveway. He'd have to consider one for the winter months.

The plan was to play Wii until Pete came, but after Clark wanted to show him something upstairs in the loft, and they never made it back down. Lex pulled out Clark's high school year book, while Clark sat next to him offering mini-bios on everyone Lex asked about or made fun of.

"Where's the girl you said you left behind?"

Clark turned the page to the beginning of the L section and pointed to a picture of a very pretty dark haired girl with tiny features and a polite grin.

"Lana Lang?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah, I was madly in love with her since were like 5, we finally dated sophomore year, and it just wasn't what I expected I guess…I mean how can reality ever live up to ten years of fantasy?"

"I hope you let her down easy."

He smirked a little at the memory. "It was more a mutual thing. I guess I expected there to be all this passion, and there just wasn't. She's dating this guy, Whitney—a football hero at school, which is probably better for her. Maybe feeling lukewarm about her was my first clue…"

Lex closed the yearbook, and Clark collapsed against the sofa cushions. "Clark, I really wish I could make you feel better about all of this"

Clark waved his hand dismissively "I'll figure it out I guess. You said its normal to be this conflicted, but I guess I keep thinking, what if I'm not confused, what if I'm just in denial?"

"Then you'll deal with it. Your parents seem like the type to help you no matter who you end up being. Have you talked to them about this?"

"No! I mean…I've given them enough to deal with…lately."

Lex sat next to him, and turned to face him. "Look, I went through the same thing at your age, and coupled with the fact that I'm Lionel's Luthor's son…well lets just say I was convinced even more the universe was trying to punish me. But over time I realized denying who I really was only kept me miserable and away from the life I really wanted, and not just who I wanted to be with, but what I truly wanted out of life. So the day I walked away from my father, I also accepted my sexuality."

He'd never really thought about whether or not Lex was attracted to men; the kiss probably should have been his first clue. And denying who he really was held true on so many levels. There were things he had no choice but to keep to himself and he'd never know the true impact of having to do that his whole life, but maybe there was at least one thing he wouldn't always have to hide.

"Was it scary?"

"Terrifying."

Clark was really searching for an anchor right now. "But worth it?"

Lex nodded. "Hard in the beginning, especially given my track record at Excelsior, but I'm happy now."

Clark gave him a tiny smile, and looked toward the large window. It was snowing again, and for some reason that made him feel a little sad.

"You know what my Dad said about Excelsior? Well high school in general."

"What?"

"He said that at no other point in your life will people scrutinize you that much, or be as cruel to each other. He said if anyone could survive the high school years, the rest of life was a breeze."

Lex laughed, truer words had never been spoken. "Your father is a very wise man."

That elicited the first genuine smile since they'd entered the barn.

"Thanks Lex."

"For what?"

Clark relaxed; stretching out his long limbs, unaware that leaned against Lex now.

"For being such a good friend and not making me feel like a ridiculous kid."

"You're far from that, Clark." It came out in barely a whisper and Clark glanced at him, startled by the way Lex held his gaze. Lex quickly turned away, knowing he needed to get up from the couch immediately, but Clark leaned forward and kissed him; lightly at first, then with more confidence until it grew into a much deeper and passionate kiss than they shared the day before. He encircled his large hand around Lex's neck, pulling in him, while his body responded to Lex's hand resting on his thigh. Like he'd watched Braden do so many times in the middle of the night with the nameless boy; he laid down on the cushions, pulling Lex with him.

Lex hovered inches from his face, and his heart pounded in his chest and his eyes burned with a growing warmth, but he'd learned by now to keep it at bay. He was terrified and curious at the same time. He wanted answers and there was no one he trusted as much as Lex.

Lex's hand slipped beneath Clark's sweater, surprised at how warm and smooth the skin was, he wanted nothing more than to slip the sweater over Clark's head and attack every inch of it, but the pounding in his head told him to stop, that he was about to do something so terrible he'd never be able to live with it. He moved away from Clark quickly, walking away towards the window, struggling to pull it open for air.

"Lex…I didn't mean. I'm sorry." Clark sat, tugging down his sweater. His face was completely flushed and hot, and he wished desperately his body hadn't been so quick to respond.

His whole body tensed with the anger he was struggling to hold back, "That can't happen Clark!"

Clark was a little shocked at his tone. "Its OK, I wanted to—"

"You don't know what you want; you're 16 yrs old! You're my student and I know better than this. Clark, I can't be a safe haven for you. Whatever this is, you need to work it out on your own. I can't do that for you. What just happened is wrong, very wrong and I promised myself it would never happen again, and now…"

Clark felt like shrinking to the floor. He made a huge mistake and now he was terrified he'd lose Lex as a friend.

"Lex, I promise. It'll never happen again, I don't know what I was thinking. Please, don't be angry."

Lex sighed and sat heavily on the windowsill. "I'm not angry Clark…well I'm angry at myself. Look, and please listen to me. Chances are this is just a phase. Your libido is out of whack and I imagine one of the cows could get a rise out of you if it looked at you the right way. One day, you're going to fall in love with someone as beautiful as that Lana Lang and be happy. This isn't real."

Clark stood there feeling surreal, like the space around him would disappear if he breathed too hard. He understood what the word 'mortification' meant now.

"You don't know that."

"I do know that Clark, I do.

There was thick silence between them, only the distant screeching of black crows breaking through.

"I really am sorry Lex."

Lex wished now he hadn't yelled, but he was so frustrated it just tore out of him.

"Its not your fault. It's definitely not the worse thing that's ever happened to me, but I know where it would lead and its nowhere either of us needs to go. I hope you can understand that."

Clark stood rooted to the floor looking like someone had just kicked him hard, but he nodded solemnly.

"I really think its best if I leave."

"What?! No, please don't do that. I won't be this stupid again—I've never done anything like that in my life, of all times to decide to become aggressive. You can trust me."

"Clark I'm more concerned that I welcomed it."

"I trust you."

Lex rubbed the back of his head, frustrated. "I'm not sure I can trust myself. I'm not leaving this second, but I think it might be best if I left in the morning. Its only a day earlier than I was leaving anyway."

Clark stood there looking defeated, but accepted. "Ok."

Lex stood up, walking past Clark. "Isn't Pete due to arrive soon?"

Clark nodded blankly.

"Well, give him my apologies. I have a few phone calls to make. I'll see you back at the house."

Lex descended the stairs quickly, before Clark's soft voice stopped him.

"We'll get past this…won't we?"

He looked up at Clark, who stared down looking younger than his 16 yrs for the first time.

"I really hope so.


	16. Chapter 16

He wasn't sure how long he stood rooted in the same spot, long after Lex disappeared from the barn; it wasn't until he heard Pete's jarring, "Holy shit!" exclamation from outside that he finally moved. He'd almost forgotten Pete was coming over and ran outside to join him. Pete was already circling his new truck with a big grin of awe on his face. He hadn't even heard him drive up.

"Oh man, you have to be the luckiest guy on the planet!"

Clark smiled and hoped it looked genuine, he tried to push the recent events out of his mind, but the feeling they produced lingered and he was having a hard time joining Pete in his elation.

Pete hopped inside the SUV not bothering to ask for permission.

"I thought you said there was no way you were getting a car this year?"

Clark got in on the passenger's side. "That's what I thought, but they surprised me. "

"Damn, that's an understatement…so you taking it back to school? Because you know, if you need someone to take care of it…"

Clark tried to laugh, but it didn't come out very convincingly. "Sorry Pete, I'm driving it back to campus after the holidays, but if you're extra nice to me, I might let you drive it while I'm home."

Pete continued to check the SUV for extras, mumbling how suddenly the Wii he got for Christmas seemed super lame. Clark wanted to assure him a Wii was nothing to be unhappy about, but he didn't bother—it'd start a whole conversation that they'd had way too many times about how Clark's life was charmed and Pete's own life sucked by comparison, and he wasn't in the mood for a jealous rant right now. Besides he couldn't shake his mood and he wasn't quite present, something that Pete eventually noticed.

"Clark, are you even listening? Whats wrong, you're spacey even for you."

"Sorry, just a little distracted…"

"Yeah, I noticed. Christmas is your favorite holiday, usually you're bouncing off the walls and being really annoying."

Clark tried harder to produce a convincing laugh, but it sounded hollow even to him.

"I don't know whats wrong. I guess being away kind of made me miss everything? I wish I knew."

Pete nodded sympathetically, not really understanding but not wanting to be a jerk about it either. Clark decided to let him off the hook and change the subject.

"You want to go for a quick drive?"

Pete perked up immediately and held his hand out for the keys.

"But where's baldy? I thought he was here."

"Lex is back at the house—he had some business to take care of. If you want to meet him we can go to the house when we get back."

Pete shook his head. "Nah, I don't want to see any teachers unless I have to."

Clark knew it had more to do with the town's unflinching prejudice against the Luthor name based on, what he didn't know, since his father had tried his best to keep Lionel Luthor far away from Smallville. Still they represented everything most working class people loathed, and since Clark wasn't in the mood for yet another uncomfortable situation, he let it go.

They drove out towards the lake and stayed on the more deserted roads so Pete could test the limits of the speedometer. For once he wished Pete were someone he could talk to about the situation, but like most guys, they didn't have that kind of relationship. Times like these he wished Chloe was back in town.

He kept the conversation light until they returned to the farm. Pete was still beaming and eyeing the truck jealously as he handed over the keys.

"Thanks man, I mean it drives like a dream."

"You're welcome to drive it anytime while I'm here."

"Thanks….you sure you Ok?"

Clark nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Oh, what are you doing about New Year's? I know usually Lana is your date for the party, but I'm guessing since she's moved on to a certain quarterback that's not the case this year?"

Clark hadn't even thought about a date for the party. "She's still invited, I'm pretty sure my parents invited her aunt, but no, she won't be my date."

It should have stung more when Clark learned Lana was dating someone else now, but after how distant they'd become during the summer he wasn't surprised he felt little about the news.

"So who you taking? You know there's like a list as long as route 8 of girls waiting for the chance."

He just rolled his eyes; Pete always made him out to be some kind of town stud when nothing could be further from the truth.

"You roll your eyes, but I speak the truth. Anyway, the reason I bring it up is because Natalie wants to be your date if you don't have anyone yet, and if you take Natalie, Hannah says she'll come with me."

Clark grimaced; he knew Natalie well, and even though she was a grade ahead of him, she made no secret of the fact that she thought they should be a couple. She was very pretty and seemed nice enough, though a little pushy for his taste and hung out with a bunch of extremely bitchy girls who'd obviously seen one too many teen films.

"Pete, I barely know her."

"Well, here's your chance to get to know her. Come on Clark, I don't ask you for much."

"Why do you even want to go out with someone who doesn't really want to go out with you?"

Pete smiled. "I plan on charming her into liking me, and besides, Hannah's hot. Look, its not like you have to take her out on the town or anything, its just your family's party, if you want to bail, you won't be far from home. It'll be painless, I promise…please?"

Clark sighed. "Fine. Who's Chloe bringing?"

Pete shrugged, unable to stop smiling now. "I don't know, some kid from Metropolis."

He really needed to give her a call. "So I guess you're happy now?"

Pete's grin got ridiculously bigger. "Yep! This time next week I'll be escorting one of the hottest girls in school to one of the biggest events in town, all thanks to the best friend a guy could ever have. I'd better get going, I think we're having dinner soon."

Clark laughed genuinely this time. "Glad I could help, Merry Christmas, that's your present."

Pete headed for his car; that now seemed a poor imitation next to Clarks'. "Hey you might actually like Natalie and you'll be thanking me later. Say hello to Baldy for me."

Once Pete was gone, Clark was faced with the decision whether to return to the house or not. The decision was made for him when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He knew who it was before he even put the phone to his ear.

"Clark, your mother is busy with dinner, so you need to get back here and help me get everything else ready."

He nodded before remembering his father couldn't actually see him and said "Ok." distractedly, closing his phone not sure if he said 'goodbye' or not.

* * *

Normally he'd be standing in the dining room in under 10 seconds, but he couldn't be sure where Lex was, so he started walking slowly up the trail leading from the barn to the house.

He spotted Lex on the porch, clearly agitated. He watched him pace back and forth, each step angrier than the last. As Clark neared he heard his clipped tone clearly, talking tensely on the phone to the unfortunate receiver of his barely contained rage. He knew if he paused by the door and concentrated he'd be able to hear the conversation in detail—his hearing had always been exceptional. He lingered for a moment before deciding that invading Lex's privacy wouldn't help matters. So he yanked open the front door and went to find his Dad.

He didn't get a chance to speak to Lex alone before the few guests they invited arrived for dinner. When he finally saw Lex enter the dining room, offering swift apologies for disappearing, he could find no trace in his demeanor of whatever upset him on the porch, or what happened earlier in the barn. When he met Clark's gaze he smiled warmly, mask firmly in place. It sent a chill through Clark, but he ate his dinner quietly, smiling and nodding in all the right places, not really enjoying the incredible spread his mother slaved over all day.

Lex managed to avoid him all evening. Every time he spotted him he stood deep in conversation with a guest, moving about the room like a social snake, pausing to just long enough to entrap a new victim; or that's at least how Clark saw it, because it frustrated him to no end that Lex was hell bent on making sure he never caught him alone. Clark retreated to him room early, making sure he gave a valid excuse to the guests, one he knew his parents would know was a lie, but would hopefully allow him to leave in peace.

He'd spent the rest of night on the phone with Chloe sporadically as she had to keep getting off to cater to a relative or her Dad; always calling Clark back faithfully to complain heavily about the latest infraction on her mental health and personal space. Chloe was in rare form and it was the first time he genuinely laughed all day, so he didn't bring up the incident with Lex; he just wanted to enjoy feeling young and at ease for once.

Now, as he lay in bed listening to Lex move around his room, it all weighed heavily on him again. And there was no escape since it was probably unacceptable to call even Chloe at 3 in the morning. So he laid in the dark, quietly listening to Lex dealing with his own turmoil. Every few minutes he thought about getting out of bed and going to Lex's room to try to coax him into a conversation, or an apology—though he wasn't positive who should be apologizing. Maybe they both should. But being in the throes of post-holiday melancholy on top of everything else, made it unlikely he'd do much but torture himself for the next few hours. He always felt that way when he climbed into bed on Christmas night. The holiday so full of anticipation and preparation—so much thought, care and anxiety poured into making a perfect holiday, and then with one dinner, one night of smiles and joyful levity it was all over, and the next day always felt strangely empty and inadequate until normal life started to creep in again.

He couldn't say it'd been his best holiday; there had been too much shifting between highs and lows for that, but still he felt sad it was over, and aside from the impending New Years party, there was little distraction to avoid everything bothering him now. Laying in the dark trying to will a sleep that's never going to come wasn't helping much either. Giving up, he slipped out of bed, hoping to find some comfort in the large quiet dark rooms; twinkling with holiday light, but the lingering smell of sugar drifting from the kitchen veered him off his course. Everything is better with sugar coursing through your veins.

Heading towards the kitchen, he heard a small shift of cushions in the great room. He peaked around the corner and saw Lex on the sofa nearest the Christmas tree, and he was so still, Clark wondered if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. He hesitated at the threshold, thinking maybe Lex felt as lost as he did at the moment and didn't want to be disturbed, but the need to put all the turmoil in his head to rest pushed him forward. In true Lex fashion, he spoke before Clark even had the chance to figure out what to say.

"What are you doing up Clark? I didn't wake you did I?"

He took that as invitation and continued into the room.

"No, I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe pie would help."

He hovered by the sofa, trying unsuccessfully to look casual, wishing he were bold enough to sit next to Lex and just tell him they needed to talk.

"Well don't let me stop you. Your mother's pie is amazing."

Lex didn't really look at him; just in his general direction to be polite, and somehow it felt ruder than if he ignored him outright.

Clark stood there for a moment, waiting for—something, anything that indicated he wasn't intruding in his own home. Finally he shrugged and headed for the kitchen, stopping only briefly to ask if Lex wanted to join him, but saw his head was already deep in his blackberry, so Clark tackled the sugar rush alone.

* * *

Morning often brought clarity. Something about the start of a new day and a half-awake brain made things clearer—usually anyway, but when Clark awoke to the sun shining brightly through his cheerful red curtains he felt even more confused than ever.

He felt the edges of a dream; maybe even a nightmare receding too quickly from his brain to grasp. But the feeling lingered, settling like a heavy fog in his chest. He lay there flat on his back; limbs hanging limply off the bed; grateful that the day after Christmas was traditionally when everyone slept in to recuperate from a long week of festivities. His mother would rise in time to make a big brunch and they'd probably just lounge around all day watching movies or talking. For now he wanted to resemble a lifeless doll as he contemplated how he'd finally find the courage to force Lex into the conversation they needed to have if they were going to face each other like human beings back at school.

He must have drifted off again because he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of soft wrapping on the door; or it should have been soft, to him it sounded like someone pounding on the inside of his skull, but then quickly receded to normal. His hearing kept doing bizarre things lately, he only prayed it wasn't the start of yet another "ability" he'd have to deal with soon. Being able to incinerate people with his eyes was all he could handle in one year.

"Come in!"

Lex peeked around the door. "Sorry, I wasn't sure if you were still asleep…"

Clark stood up, pushing the covers aside. His shirt was twisted around his waist, and his hair stood in various directions on top of his head, which judging by the smile in Lex's eyes, must have looked pretty comical. Clark hastily smoothed his hair down as best he could and tried to look alert.

"I was up earlier, but I must have fallen asleep again," he noticed the small travel bag slung over Lex's shoulder. "..you leaving already?"

He nodded. "After breakfast, which you mother sent me up here to tell you is ready."

Clark stood, looking from the bag to Lex, at a lost of what to say—he wasn't prepared to have to push the issue so suddenly.

"Look…Lex..I.."

Lex shook his head, already knowing where this was leading. "I'll see you downstairs."

Lex quickly slipped out the door before Clark could utter another word. It seemed innocuous, but Clark knew he was saying very simply: you're still a student and I'm still your teacher—nothing more.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who is still reading, sends reviews. Much appreciated!

"She looks like a stuffed cow."

Clark rolled his eyes and tried to suppress a smile. He nudged Chloe gently but firmly to admonish her.

"Chloe…"

"She does Clark, I mean look at her. That dress is at the very  _least_  one size too small—she hasn't see the other side of a size 14 in a very long time."

Clark let go of the smile he was trying in vain to hold in. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not. A size 14 happens to be the average size of most American women, I'm just saying she should embrace her figure instead of trying to force it to conform to something it has no chance in hell of being."

"So it has nothing to do with the fact that she's one of the editors at the Daily Planet that killed your—to quote you—"career making headline"?

Chloe scoffed, but chose not to go into the long tale of the article that never was—created for the sole purpose of landing her the distinction of being the youngest person ever to work in the bullpen at the Daily Planet.

"That woman has no vision—and really terrible taste in clothes. Speaking of…"

Clark followed her gaze to his date that stood below them in the great room chatting up a friend she'd run into.

He shrugged. "What's wrong with her dress?"

"A little skimpy don't you think? I mean it is 20 degrees outside."

Clark wondered why the conversation had again steered towards dresses; a subject he knew nothing about, nor cared about.

"Its not 20 degrees in here, besides it's a formal event; most dresses aren't exactly ready for a blizzard. Yours doesn't even have sleeves."

"Yeah, but at least my boobs—"

"Can we  _please_  talk about something else?"

Chloe smiled. At least teasing Clark was a good enough diversion to lighten her mood.

"Sorry, Clark."

Clark rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Hey, I need all the levity I can get if I'm supposed to spend and evening with her."

Clark looked back over to where his date was now coming up the stairs to join them on the landing.

"She seems Ok…"

Chloe lowered her voice a little. "Oh how quickly you forget. You've been gone, what, four months? Have you forgotten how evil her and her little disciples were at school? How miserable they made my life?"

"Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little? I don't remember her being that bad."

"Seeing as how you were the unassuming "school hotty" I don't think you're in any position to judge."

"Maybe the kids at Excelsior make the kids at Smallville High seem like saints."

Chloe frowned, a little surprised by the admission and was about to comment, but Natalie and Pete with his date were drawing close. Clark leaned over and whispered, "be nice." quickly, and turned to greet them.

* * *

The evening passed by uneventfully—all of Smallville and portions of Granville and Metropolis covered the floor of the great-room, creating a sea of blue and silver (the theme colors this year). Clark watched it all with detachment; nodding and smiling when anyone engaged him in mundane conversation—the usual "you're looking well"; "we've missed you around here." He wondered if any of it was true. He tried to get know his date, hoping expressing some genuine interest would shake him out of his dark, detached mood. He remembered her from school of course, but realized he didn't remember much about her except she was pretty and hung with a group of obnoxious girls, and didn't stand out much—now he understood why. Maybe it was just his mood, because if he was honest he wasn't paying as close attention to her as he thought. A huge part of him just wanted to go to bed, or at the very least get away from all the festivities.

It was around that time that everyone else tired of watching their parents grow giddier with each sip of champagne and decided to head over to Clark's barn for some peace and less adult fun.

Chloe kicked things off by producing a well-stashed bottle of champagne from under her coat. She readied herself to launch into the lengthy excuse she prepared on the walk over of why it was ok to steal a bottle of Dom from the kitchen, but her speech died on her lips when she saw a look of pure disinterest on Clark's face—she wondered just what Excelsior had done to her boy scout. Soon the bottle was passed around and the flat screen blared some bad HBO film. Clark took a swig when his turn came, but he knew the alcohol would have no affect on him. He usually felt a slight buzz the minute the liquid hit the back of his throat, but it died as quickly as it came. So he sat and watched while his friends laughed louder and harder at next to nothing and his date moved closer and closer to him.

He avoided looking at the loft above them—trying desperately to forget what occurred there just days before. It didn't help that Lex's current whereabouts were a mystery to him. Every text and email had gone unanswered. Once after the third unanswered text he even called his Paris hotel, but was told in broken English that Mr. Luthor had declined to check in.

He knew if he asked, Lex would say the avoidance was for his own good; that he was being the grownup and taking things under control. Then why did it feel like he'd been punched in the gut? He couldn't shake the feeling that Lex was angry with him somehow—that he'd screwed everything up. The sound of jingle bells screaming above all the laughing he'd been tuning out pulled him away from his thoughts. Chloe's phone was blaring next to him in her discarded coat. He reached in and handed to her as she stumbled quickly to grab it.

All he heard was an "Oh Cool!" followed by her announcement that a bunch of kids were having a New Year's bonfire by the lake, and Whitney and Lana would swing to pick them up if anyone wanted to go. Clark said a silent prayer that they all wanted to join them, and his prayers were answered. Quickly everyone got to their feet (unsteadily) and started grabbing coats. Natalie, his date didn't move from his side, silently waiting for his cue. Chloe stopped laughing with Pete long enough to notice Clark hadn't moved from the couch.

"You're not coming?"

He shook his head. "I'm kinda tired….you guys go ahead."

Chloe looked at him with new concern. "But you haven't seen everyone for months, and I know everyone is wants to see you. You sure you won't change your mind?"

Clark stood to walk them out. "I'm sure. But go have fun, and make sure Whitney is fit to drive before you get in his truck. I'll take you guys over if he's not."

Chloe gently tugged him to the side and half whispered. "You sure you're OK? I mean, and you can totally tell me its none of my business, but you've seemed kind of distant all night. Not out-growing us small-town hicks are you?"

He gave her his best smile—the kind he'd been told lit up his whole face. "Never. I've missed you guys more than you know. And I'm sorry….i just have some stuff on my mind, its got nothing to do with you, I promise."

Chloe rubbed his arm sympathetically. "Ok…I'll call you tomorrow. We will hang out and I will make you smile…for real this time."

He really had missed Chloe. He kissed the top of her head and steered her towards the others.

"Oh, by the way…don't think you're getting rid of Miss Natalie anytime soon."

He rolled his eyes and gave her a gentle shove and returned to the sofa where Natalie was still seated.

"You didn't have to stay because of me."

She smiled softly. "Honestly, standing outside in the freezing cold around a frozen lake doesn't seem like much of a good time."

Clark laughed a little. "Well, there is a fire…"

"I'm fine where I am, thanks."

Clark stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. He didn't really want company right now, but he also couldn't just kick her out.

"So…I could take you home. I mean whenever you're ready."

She smiled that benign smile of hers and walked past him towards the stairs.

"What's up there? Is that the loft I've heard so much about?"

Of course she wanted to see the one place he'd been avoiding all night, but he couldn't really tell her why he wanted to avoid it, so he nodded and followed her up the stairs.

"Wow, its gorgeous up here…"

Clark deliberately sat on the sofa because his father always said face your fears, don't avoid them. He just hoped Natalie's chattering and the twinkling lights (how his mother managed to decorate the loft without him knowing was beyond him) were enough to distract him from thinking about laying prone on that very sofa with Lex's hand against his chest.

"Thanks…it was kinda my thirteenth birthday present. My Dad told me about it the birthday before and let me design it. We both worked on it together, right along side the contractors."

She came and sat next to him. "That's amazing, but it sounds like something your Dad would do; he's a very cool guy."

"Oh you know my Dad? I mean I know most people know him…"

She nodded. "Yea, well not really, I mean my Dad works for your company, and he's really happy there—always saying how good your parents are to everyone."

"I didn't realize your Dad worked there."

"Why would you? You know all 1200 employees?"

Clark smiled sheepishly. "No, not really, but you know, I just forget sometimes how many here work at the company."

She leaned against his arm. "You guys are like the gentle Barons."

Clark just smiled, a little embarrassed. He never knew what to say when people brought up how prominent his family is in the town. He'd spent his whole life there, and attended school with everyone –he never felt like the rich kid in town, and never flaunted what he had the way the Fordmans did. It was strange now to be thrust in the middle of a world where everyone cared what everyone else's father did for a living. Maybe there was more bothering him than just the incident with Lex. If it was possible, being home made him even more homesick.

Natalie gently touched his arm. "Hey…you OK, you seemed to zone out there for a minute."

Clark shook his head, trying to chase away the thoughts that kept pulling him down all day.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just having an off day."

"Holidays are like that sometimes I guess."

He glanced at her, not minding her hand that was now resting on his back. It felt soothing.

"I mean, if you're not having the best time ever, you feel miserable."

Clark nodded, "but my holidays weren't bad. Christmas was really nice, and tonight's party seemed to go well…"

"Then whats wrong?"

For the first time, Clark understood why people said telling your problems to a stranger was easier than telling your best friend. But he didn't even know how to begin. What he wanted was to not think about any of it.

Clark didn't answer, and for a few moments they sat there like that watching the lights flicker, sitting very close and not saying anything.

"Do you miss it here?"

He found it funny that the only person who thought to ask him that didn't know him very well at all.

"Yea, I guess…I mean, Excelsior is…different."

"I hear its pretty stuck up"

Clark sighed, "That's an understatement…I'm sorry I don't really want to talk about Excelsior."

She rubbed his back gently. "Its ok. I'm sorry you're not happy there. You're far to nice and cute to be unhappy"

He gave her a small smile, one she returned, and for a moment he must have looked open because she leaned up and kissed him.

He opened his mouth to hers, surprised by how soft and warm she felt, and how eagerly he deepened the kiss. He felt the familiar heat spreading through him—just a pleasant warmth at first that he knew would continue to grow in intensity if he let this continue. At the back of his mind was the thought that he hardly knew her, but at least he was feeling  _something_  and for the first time all night wasn't thinking about Lex; not incinerating her was his prime focus at the moment. She moved over to sit facing him on his lap, slipping her hand beneath his shirt. His body seemed to spring to life then, and a huge part of him was relieved it was a female causing such a strong reaction. He'd been with Lana before his "awakening" and he never felt more and a pleasant comfort with her. Natalie's fingers brushed against his nipple and her mouth teased his neck. He moaned softly and felt himself straining against his pants. The heat pooled behind his eyes and he blinked them rapidly a few times, focusing the sensation to where her hands touched him.

He wasn't sure when his shirt was unbuttoned, but she was pushing the fabric away from his chest. She sat back a little and eased one the straps of her dress off her shoulder, letting it fall. He'd never seen a female breast this close before and his blush spread below his neck.

"We should really…."

But she guided his hand over it and leaned in and kissed him again, letting her fingers graze against the straining fabric of his pants. His whole body felt like it was on fire—it was almost overwhelming and he needed to stop, desperately, but it felt…amazing. She moved back and undid his pants, releasing him. He looked at her, wanting to tell her they didn't have to take things this far, but instead he kissed her again. Then she moved away from his lips, shifting on his lap, and soon he was enveloped in a heat unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

It didn't take very long.

A few moments later he was left with a searing pain in his eyes, panting against the sofa, wondering how something so important could happen so quickly and with so little fanfare.

He barely registered her asking him where the bathroom was. He gestured below them and as soon as he heard her receding steps he laid back on the sofa wondering what he had just done.

After Natalie returned, he took his turn, staying in the bathroom longer than necessary. He moved on autopilot, feeling strange and surreal. He dreaded the moment he'd have to speak to her again—what would he say?

He discovered Natalie on the downstairs sofas when he finally emerged. She smiled brightly at him, completely at ease.

"It's getting pretty late, huh?"

"Yea, I guess it is…should I take you home now?"

She nodded and went to get her coat. Clark helped her on with it, still feeling the massive awkwardness hanging in the air—at least on his end. He looked at her oddly, watching her casual demeanor as she checked around for anything she'd left behind.

"Are you Ok?"

She looked confused for a moment. "Me? I'm fine." She walked over and leaned up to kiss him. " I had a lot fun—probably my best New Years to date."

She took his hand, smiling serenely, and they walked out of the barn together.

* * *

 

The drive was quiet and uneventful. Natalie leaned lazily against the passenger window trying not fall asleep, while he kept his eyes determinedly on the dark icy roads. As long as he looked like he was trying not to get them killed, maybe he wouldn't be forced into conversation. So far the ruse worked. Once they pulled up to Natalie's house, he turned and smiled, unsure of whether to kiss her goodnight or not. It seemed both expected and futile after the evening they'd had. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, and she didn't push for more. She suggested they get together in the next day or so, and he couldn't very well turn her down, so they made tentative plans for the day after New Years, when Smallville would return to life.

 

The lights were still on in the great room when he arrived home. He really didn't want to face his parents right now, and for a moment he considered speeding around to the kitchen door and disappearing up the back stairs. But his mother passed the window, alerted by his approach. He climbed out of the truck and slowly made his way to the front door.

"There you are. I was beginning to get worried. Did you go to the lake with the others?"

He shook his head, before realizing standing there like a mute might seem weird.

"No..."

His mother peered at him closer. "Clark…honey did something happen?"

For a moment his eyes widened in alarm, but they couldn't tell could they? Was his entry into manhood written all over his face? Though he didn't feel like a man at all—its what everyone said he'd become afterwards; honestly he never felt more like a confused kid.

"What? No, my date didn't want to go, so we just hung out in the barn." That wasn't a lie at all.

"I'm really tired, I think I'll just go to bed."

"Are you sure everything is ok? You're awfully quiet."

His father had joined them now, but Clark could tell he was still feeling the affects of earlier imbibing and probably wouldn't notice his awkwardness—or he hoped at least.

"Martha, even Clark can get tired, its been a long day—And Clark, sleep in tomorrow. I think we all deserve a nice day of leisure after all our hard work."

His mother shook her head. "Fine you win, I'll see you in the morning sweety." She kissed his cheek never letting the concern leave her eyes.

* * *

Paris was supposed to bring some level of peace. People traveled from all over the world to stand in grand Parisian windows, gazing out at the Eiffel Tower with pensive looks on their faces as they exhaled all the worry and anxiety from their mundane complicated lives, letting it drift over the Seine while they embraced the laissez faire of the French. Normally all the usual posturing worked, but as Lex stood on the small balcony outside of his overpriced suite in the very quaint Le Marias district, he never felt more burdened and beaten.

His features twisted with anger and anxiety and he repeated over and over in his head, with the ferocity of lashes; "I shouldn't have stopped in Metropolis—I should have gone straight to the airport." If he had, maybe he could actually enjoy scoring the last luxury suite in Paris's only gay district and his plans of full-on debauchery, making use of the hotels discretion and the privacy his suite provided. He'd given up the suite he'd had booked since October. He didn't want anyone to find him—he just wanted to be left completely alone. Maybe Paris and its beauty and freedom would give him the answers and space he needed. Distance from Clark would provide much needed clarity he hoped. Though he knew it wasn;t about clarity. Everything was pretty clear—Clark was sixteen years old; his student and very innocent. There was nothing to figure out. He needed to leave Clark alone.

As he stood on the balcony trying to steel his resolve he tried to ignore the implications of the dark-haired youth with ruddy cheeks and dewy skin sleeping peacefully in his bed. It didn't matter he saw grey eyes when he should have seen blue or that the lips he bit where not as full and red as the ones in his head. None of it mattered as long as he could endure seeing Clark again.


	18. Chapter 18

Clark picked at his food. He'd been trying unsuccessfully to elevate his mood all day but nothing was working. Anyone else would be elated by his current situation, but he felt dragged down by a swirl of emotions and erratic thoughts, and—guilt. The last one he couldn't figure out. He hadn't done anything wrong, but part of him knew that wasn't true—and it wasn't for the conventional reasons. He knew somehow he'd broken a very important promise to himself—to who he'd been raised to be, but he also knew he wasn't stopping anytime soon.

A week passed since New Year's Eve and he'd seen Natalie three times. Each time he was determined they'd just watch a movie, or at the most he'd take her out to eat, but every time they ended up back in his loft with far less clothing on than when the evening began. He couldn't say he knew what he was doing, but so far she hadn't complained, and didn't seem to expect him to do much more than lie back while she did things he'd only heard rumors about.

He watched Chloe talk animatedly knowing any moment she'd catch on that he hadn't heard a word she said.

"You know, I could just record this so you can listen to it later. Can you at least  _pretend_  you're listening to me?"

Clark smiled a little. "Sorry…what were you saying?"

She sighed heavily. "Not important. What's going on? You're being weird even for you."

"Nothing's going on…"

Chloe took a fry off his plate. "You do know you're a bad liar, right?"

"Would you rather me be a good liar?" He suddenly felt irritated and he wasn't sure why.

Chloe peered at him, like she was trying to figure something out, then leaned back in her seat sighing. "Fine. Mr. Kent doesn't feel like talking-so what else is new?"

"Sorry, I just—"

She waved her hand. "Its Ok Clark, I know you're not the most loquacious guy around." She grinned widely at her impressive new word.

Clark smiled. "How long have you been waiting to slip that into a conversation?"

"Just since I read it in class last semester, but I knew if I hung around you during the break I'd find a reason to use it."

Clark had to laugh. "Glad I didn't disappoint."

"Oh! That reminds me. Well it doesn't, but anyway, you will not believe what that total bitch Natalie is telling her friends."

Clark visibly tensed and felt the color drain from his face as he braced himself for Chloe's news.

"Chloe, I don't really think she's a bi—"

"She is! She is actually going around telling the other Preppy Princesses that she actually  _slept_ with you the night of the party!"

Chloe had the tact of a pitbull. He quickly looked around the diner to see if anyone else heard her exclamation. Fortunately they were the only ones on that side of the diner.

He whispered fiercely, "Can you keep your voice down?"

"Oh sorry, but can you believe that? I told you I had good reason to hate her. She probably thinks she can get away with saying it because you're going back to school soon,….and why are you not hopping mad and berating her with me? I mean I get that you're a nice guy and all, but come on Clark! She is waaay out of line!"

Clark became very interested in his food all of a sudden. His pallor now replaced with bright red as he felt his face growing hotter by the second.

"Look Clark, its nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm sure no one believes her….Not that it won't score you points with the jocks if they did….Clark?"

He glanced up from his burger that he was now very intent on eating, but kept silent. He didn't want to lie, and he definitely didn't want to tell her the truth. More than anything he didn't want to talk about it all, especially not with Chloe, because even though she was his best friend, he worried about her reaction most of all.

"Not now…"

Chloe's eyes turned into saucers. "Do you mean 'not now' because you don't want to talk about how horrible she is; or 'not now' meaning she's not making it up and you don't want to tell me in the middle of a diner?"

"Chloe, I'm serious, I don't want to talk about this." He could feel this anger swelling inside him and he wasn't sure he could control his tongue if she kept pressing the issue.

"But, Clark.."

He gave her one last pleading look before returning to his burger.

They ate the rest of the meal in near silence. He felt her eyes boring into him but he refused to acknowledge her. His only goal now was to drop her back home and get back to the farm without any further discussion.

But as they walked up the street after leaving the diner, and he watched her face growing sharper and her eyes narrower with every step he couldn't take it any longer. He was the first to cave.

He stopped abruptly and looked at her. "What Chloe?"

"What?"

"Just say it, whatever is going on in your head, just get it out because you're driving me nuts."

Chloe folded her arms, which was never a good sign, and her eyes were absolute daggers. "You're the one who said you didn't want to talk about it, not that I know what there is to talk about. I have a pretty good idea though."

"Wait…you're angry?"

Chloe started walking again. "Its none of my business, Clark."

He grabbed her by shoulder, careful to do it lightly. "Chloe…"

She stopped and looked at him, her gaze softening a little. "Look, I'm not mad…I'm just…I don't know, I guess I thought you were different? But that's not fair is it? I mean why should you be any different than any other 16 yr old guy? I don't know why it upsets me…"

"I'm…I…." But what could he say? She was right wasn't she? He wasn't any different than most of the guys in the locker rooms at school.

"Clark, its fine, I mean, what do I know right? You just always talked about how you wanted what your parents have, and how important it was for you to be in love. I mean I know you and Lana never really got past second base because you weren't sure how you felt about her. So, I guess I'm just thrown when I find out you'd throw everything aside for the first girl who's willing. You don't know even know her Clark."

Chloe felt herself getting heated again. She really didn't want to care, but she did, and it was for none of the reasons she just stated—at least it wasn't the whole story.

If he didn't think he could feel any worse he was wrong. He felt ashamed and angry. Angry at the whole situation and angry with her for making him face it, and everything he'd been holding at bay all afternoon came rushing forward.

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, but you're right; I am a 16 yr old guy and I don't know everything. I don't know why I did it,…its just a lot more complicated than you know." He knew his voice was growing louder but he couldn't control it.

"….and I do feel bad, I feel terrible, and confused,…..but don't keep putting me on pedestals!, its not fair and I can't live up to it all the time!"

Chloe stared at him, a little surprised by his outburst, but she mostly felt weary and maybe dealing with Clark and his usual myriad of problems was beyond her capacity right now.

"Don't worry Clark—pedestal completely crumbled. I'll find my own way home."

She pushed past him and walked hurriedly away. He didn't stop her, he just walked across the street, climbed into his truck, and peeled up the road—screeching tires voicing the frustration he couldn't bring himself to scream out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short but i wanted to get things moving:)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos and comments. They are very appreciated. I really do love to know what people are thinking when they read this, good or bad:)

The streets of Paris were oddly deserted at this hour. Some holiday festival near Champs Élysées that evening had taken over the entire city's inhabitants and left the rest of the city abandoned. Lex took advantage of the solitude and wandered the streets for hours. Again he was reminded of his teenage desire to have a small apartment in Montmartre. His father had nixed the plan after his senior year scandal, but maybe it was time to revisit the idea. He immediately wondered if Clark had been to Paris, and what he'd think of Montmartre. Clark always entered his mind without warning at the oddest times, and he hated it. Paris and the over 4,000 mile distance wasn't doing it's job. Even the French youth he'd picked up the other night and fucked until he was nearly too sore to move didn't help. He was at a lost and he didn't know how he'd return to Excelsior without doing something drastic.

As he neared his hotel the fatigue he'd held at bay all day suddenly hit him. He wanted nothing more than to sink into his bed alone and not move til morning, but a figure standing near the concierge desk brought all that to a halt. He had two choices; either sneak to the elevator bay unseen and refuse all calls for the rest of the evening and deal with it tomorrow or face him now and get over with. The anger flaring inside of him chose the latter and he walked briskly up to the man hell bent on ruining his evening.

"What are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

His father turned around smiling broadly "There you are! Honestly Lex, you're not all that hard to find. I came to see you of course, since you felt it necessary to avoid me for the holidays. The staff was very upset, Rowena was preparing your favorites."

Lex rolled his eyes—this was the last thing he needed. "Cut the crap Dad. What do you want?"

"Always so suspicious Lex. Meet me across the street for dinner in 20 minutes. I need to get settled. And get a good table."

He clapped him on the back, with a smile that always chilled Lex to the bone, even as a child. Lionel then turned his attention to the hotel staff collecting his bags and didn't so much as glance back in his direction. It always amazed Lex how someone could smile and exchange pleasantries and make your blood run cold at the same time. A skill only Lionel Luthor and Satan seemed to have mastered.

* * *

Le Dome du Marias was unnaturally empty this time of evening, so Lex didn't have to bother mentioning his name to score a prime table, though his bald head was hard to miss he imagined. The restaurant was typical of his father—very old Paris, with lots of carved wood and stained glass; there was even a glass dome; hence the name. It wasn't his taste—it reminded him too much of his former home—all austere and pompous, like his father. Lex ordered a scotch, knowing he'd need a great deal of liquid courage if he were to endure this evening. Lionel arrived exactly 25 minutes later to make his usual ostentatious entrance. He toned down the display once he saw the audience was relatively small. Lex rolled his eyes and pushed the out the chair across from him with his foot.

Lionel glanced at the chair then shook his head "We must keep up the niceties Lex. You should stand when an elder joins you, but no matter, I know you've been away from us for a while. It makes sense you'd forget a few courtesies."

Lex took a long sip of his scotch that just arrived, wondering how he;d forgotten how much he hated the way his father danced around the truth. He truly hated passive aggressiveness.

Tossing back the rest of his drink, Lex eyed his father steadily, pushing the empty glass to the edge of the table, signaling for another.

"Are we going do a verbal waltz, or are you going to tell me why you tracked me down all the way to Paris?"

Lionel threw his coat on the empty chair next to him and smiled. "Well, at least Excelsior has taught you to get right to the point."

He fixed his father with a hard stare and motioned for him to continue.

"Tell me Lex. Why were you at the Kents for the holidays?"

His face most likely betrayed him, but he kept his voice calm, while inside he was frantically figuring out how his father had found out.

"They invited me, why?"

Lionel summoned the waiter over and ordered a bottle of Highland, then looked at Lex sternly—all mockery gone from his eyes.

"You mean Clark Kent invited you. Sweet boy from what I remember, very handsome."

"What are you getting at Dad?" He felt his face getting warmer—he knew where this was going.

"I think you know Lex. Is this the reason you threw away everything you were groomed to be—to chase after cute little boys? And I've met Jonathan Kent—if you think he'll let you defile his precious child without putting a bullet in you, then you've grossly misjudged their affability. This is your senior year at Excelsior all over again."

Anger exploded him now, and he tried his best to keep his voice down, but he wasn't very successful.

"You are way out of line Dad. He is nothing more than a student and at most a friend. I don't know why you're doing this, but you're going too far. I've done nothing wrong."

Lex was practically hissing at his father now and it took all his reserve not to walk out of the restaurant, or at worse, punch him in the face.

"I'm sure you haven't, but you want to. You forget how well I know you."

Lex grabbed his head as anger was giving way to utter exasperation. Did anyone deserve this as a father?

"Where are you going with this Dad?"

Lionel picked up the menu and began studying it. "I took care of your little scandal at Excelsior, managed to keep it out of the papers, and paid off the faculty, but I'm not sure even I'd be able to help you this time Lex. The Kents are powerful in their own way, and a little more sympathetic than we are."

Lex pulled the menu away; completely annoyed his father was saying such insane things and not even having the courtesy to look at him.

"You're being insane even for you. Like I said; Clark is just my student, nothing more, and that "scandal" as you like to call it, wasn't really a scandal. It was about you not wanting the world to know that your son is gay."

Lionel shrugged. "I still think you just haven't been fucked properly by a woman."

Lex stood up, and grabbed his coat. "I'm not doing this Dad. Whatever  _this_  is, I'm not doing it."

Lionel grabbed his arm. "All I'm saying son is if something does happen to jeopardize your position as a teacher, there's always a place for you at Luthor Corp."

Lex leaned his very close to his father and with all the venom he could muster, said "Fuck you Dad."

He left the restaurant as quickly as his feet would allow, turning sharply away from his hotel. He wanted to scream with rage, and at the injustice that his father even existed, but it wouldn't do any good. He knew that one way or the other Lionel Luthor always got what he wanted; and he was terrified.

* * *

After leaving his disastrous lunch with Chloe, Clark drove around the outskirts of Smallville for a few hours before finding himself in front of Natalie's house. He sat in her driveway trying to will himself to push the accelerator and head home, but his hands wouldn't even turn the key. He'd spent most of the day inside of his own confusion, crawling deeper and deeper until everything felt dark and chaotic, and he just wanted a moment of peace—to simply feel and shut off his brain.

Natalie spotted him from her window but she didn't come out. He glanced up at her, watching as she patiently let him make up his mind. With an exasperated sigh, he climbed out of his truck and walked towards the front door.

* * *

Martha Kent picked up a third potato after ruining the first two. If her husband noticed she was distracted lately, he didn't say anything. Chances are he didn't notice. The beginning of the year was a very busy and stressful time for him as he reconciled their company's profits against projections. So far, they'd been very blessed and never ended up in the red, but they were never ones to count on things magically working out in their favor. Maybe he assumed that's why she was distracted, but the reason she couldn't seem to cut up a potato correctly to make a simple dauphinoise for dinner had to do with a very complicated sixteen year old boy.

She knew her son far too well not to notice his mood had shifted drastically since the New Year's party. It wasn't great before, but he seemed happy to be home and always had an easy smile for everyone. Now they scarcely saw him unless they caught him before he headed out to the barn, or hopped in his new SUV. Pete had called twice saying he couldn't reach Clark on his cell.

The other day she'd seen Clark walking out of the barn with his date to the New Year's party, and she'd smiled then, thinking Clark was simply pre-occupied with a girl. But he never mentioned her and never brought her up to the house to meet them. Something was definitely wrong and whatever it was, Clark wasn't saying a word.

"Making Clark's favorite huh? Are you thinking that's going to bring our mopey teen home for dinner?"

Martha looked up, her expression causing her husband's face to fall.

"Martha…you worry too much. I'm sure he's just hanging out with his friends. He hasn't seen them in months. Of course he'd rather spend time with them; you can't take this personally."

Martha shook her head, wishing her husband would acknowledge something was wrong with Clark, because she knew her husband too—he noticed, whether he was ready to admit it or not.

She began determinedly slicing the potato, trying not to get angry with her husband.

"Jonathan, Clark isn't acting like himself, and I don't think its because he wants to hang out with his friends."

Jonathan stopped trying to make lite of the situation when he saw how worried she was. He knew something was up with their son, but he hoped it was simply everything he's had to deal with lately catching up with him.

"Look, Clark will come to us when he's ready, with whatever is bothering him, for now, if he needs space, then we'll give it to him. He's a good kid, I'm sure he's not doing anything we really need to worry about."

Martha wasn't convinced. "I hope you're right." She wanted to mention the girl, but she could tell her husband wasn't in the mood for added stress.

"I'm going back to the books. Call me when dinner's ready... and honey, don't worry about Clark. Whatever it is, we'll get through it—we always do." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss, then disappeared back into his office.

* * *

When Clark arrived home a few hours later, the wonderful smell of butter, potatoes and cheese hit him as he pulled up to the back of the house. His plan was to run up the back stairs to shower and head back to the barn, but the smell reminded him he'd skipped dinner every day this week. He'd fallen in love with the French dish of crispy potatoes layered with butter and cheese when his parents took him to the French countryside one year when they were looking for new products for the stores. He realized it was his mother's gentle way of reminding him he still had a family, and they still expected to see him once in a while.

He sped upstairs straight to the shower, and then dressed quickly. A few runs at full-speed around the property would dry his hair in seconds, but he decided against it and headed to the kitchen.

"Well, I do still have a son!" His mother's cheery voice greeted him as he walked in.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Sorry Mom, I guess I've been busy."

She gave him a gentle squeeze. "Its ok, I know you're father and I aren't as exciting as your friends here. But since we only have you for a couple more weeks, we'd like to see more of you."

Clark looked away, fighting to keep his face neutral when she mentioned their limited time before school started again. There was definitely something he needed to talk to them about, and the current conversation didn't make it any easier. He'd come to the realization that he just didn't want to be there anymore. Dealing with his friends, Natalie and everything just felt tiring and overwhelming. For the first time in his life the farm wasn't a safe haven for him, and he wasn't sure if that meant he was growing up, or things were worse than he realized. Excelsior sat empty with the exception of a small handful of staff and the quiet stone buildings suddenly seemed very inviting.

He wolfed down three helpings of the dish, much to his mother's delight, but the conversation was stilted at best. His father was clearly preoccupied with the business; his mother danced around whatever it was she really wanted to say to him, and he avoided pretty much every subject that had to do with his friends, school, or his secret girlfriend. It left very little to talk about.

After the second piece of apple pie, Clark gulped down a glass of milk, trying to round up the courage to ask what he needed to ask. As soon as he saw his father was about to get up and disappear back into his office, Clark just blurted it out.

"Dad..before you go, can I ask you guys something?"

Jonathan sat back down, trying to read Clark's expression. "Sure son, what is it?"

"I um…Is it ok if maybe I go back to school early?"

That was the last thing they expected. "What? Why?"

"I just…."

He really hadn't thought this through. Did he expect his parents to just say "Sure son, whatever you want"? No, they would want an explanation and he didn't have the foresight to plan one. The truth left him with a few options; one—he couldn't stop having sex with a girl he barely knew and feared he was becoming a sex maniac and needed to get as far away as possible; two—the reason he spent time with Natalie was to ward off very confusing thoughts and feelings about Lex that may or may not involve both of them naked; or three—He didn't know if he could relate to his friends anymore, and, oh yea, Chloe was mad at him for not remaining chaste until he married or until he allowed her to deflower him. None of those were very good options, so right now, he was at a lost.

He shrugged finally, hoping whatever came out of his mouth would land somewhere between a half-truth and a lie.

"I don't know….there's a lot of work I want to get done before school starts, and I haven't really been getting along with any of my friends here since I got back. To be honest being here makes me feel worse."

It wasn't lost on either of his parents that he avoided looking at them directly. His mother glanced at his father who shared her look of concern.

"Clark, I don't like the idea of you being at school all by yourself with no supervision."

Martha decided she'd talk to Clark alone later. His father was just too distracted and on edge to handle Clark gently right now, and she sensed whatever was going on with him needed an easy touch.

"Some faculty will be there, and a few students. They have a couple of classes during the break—Winterim."

His father looked at him, clearly confused. "Clark, I don't understand. All this time you've only tolerated being there, and now you want to leave home early to go back?"

"I know it doesn't make any sense…home just feels weird, I don't know why."

Jonathan sighed and got up. "Well, your mother and I will talk it over, but if you really think this is what you want to do, I guess we can't really object. I'm calling the school in the morning to see if it's even an option." He looked at Clark like he wanted to say something else, but walked back towards his office instead.

He looked at his mother. "I'm sorry Mom…"

She smiled and kissed his head. "Its ok sweetheart. Why don't you clear the table for me?"

Clark went to move but his mother stopped him.

"Clark….whats going on with you? Why can't you talk to us about it? Does it have anything to do with that girl you've been seeing?"

Clark immediately colored at the mention of the girl, and a large part of him wanted to confess everything to his mother, but the words never made it past his throat.

"I…I promise you Mom, its nothing bad."

"Why doesn't that make me feel better? I hate that you think you can't talk to us about this. You know there's nothing you can't tell us that could ever change how we feel about you."

Clark couldn't help but think she wouldn't be saying that if she knew what it was. Though he wasn't sure which thing he was referring to—the lusting after his bald, very male teacher, or having sex with a girl he barely knew. Neither was within the realm of what his parents knew to be "their son."

He swallowed hard—he hated how easily he became emotional lately.

"Its….embarrassing more than anything, and a little sad, I guess. Honestly Mom, I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe its some weird Kryptonian puberty….but please don't worry. I'm fine, I swear."

Martha reached over and brushed his bangs off his forehead. All she could do now is trust him, and trust that they raised him as well as they hoped.

"Ok…Well I'm going upstairs. We'll talk about you going back to school in the morning. Don't forget to clean up." She kissed him and walked out of the room.

Clark cleaned the kitchen at full speed, anxious to get upstairs and pack. He felt oddly relieved to be returning to school soon—though part of him wondered how easy it would be to book a flight to Paris without his parents finding out.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i'd love to know what everything thinks of this particular chapter. Please feel free to comment, good or bad. :)

The next morning Clark sat in his loft with his laptop open next to him. He’d made sure to get up well before his parents, hoping they’d sleep in since neither of them planned to work that week.  One page was open to a site displaying all available flights leaving out of Kansas City that day, and the other was open to his bank account. He’d already checked his miles on two airlines, and had figured out he could use them for at least half the price of the ticket on either.  His savings account showed a balance of $5100 and change. He didn’t dare use his Amex card, because they alerted his parents about any charge over $1000. Was he really doing this? He shut his laptop and wrung his hand through his hair roughly.  He stared at the glowing Apple symbol hoping it would provide him with answers, as he pulled the laptop open again.  The pages still sat there, waiting for him to make up his mind.

His pulse quickened as he moved half the money into his checking account. This was crazy; his parents would kill him, and more importantly— _this was crazy_.

He pulled his bankcard out of his wallet and placed next to his laptop. There was still time to change his mind; he hadn't done anything irreversible yet. But he was already checking to see if he could get a flight out that night, or the next morning at the latest. The sensible part of his brain seemed to be ignoring him as he chose an outbound and inbound flight. The first flight left around 4pm out of Kansas City, MO, meaning he had plenty of time to drive to school and leave his SUV there, then run to the airport. He'd arrive in Paris the next morning.

After booking his flights and trying not to think about the dent to his bank account, he quickly grabbed his bags and left the farm before he changed his mind. He'd eventually have to explain the debit to his parents—and explain why he bought a plane ticket to Paris at all. Again—crazy, but he'd worry about his parents later. He couldn't explain what drove him to fly across the world to see Lex, but he knew it had to be done. He needed to see him away from school, and away from everything. The constant anxiety and confusion was driving him insane and he needed some sort of closure one way or the other. As he pulled his car onto the main highway, he hoped Lex wouldn't turn him away.

* * *

 

Several hours and time zones later he arrived at Charles De Gaulle Airport. It was early morning in Paris and surprisingly busy. Clark ducked through the crowds and pulled together as much as he knew from his visits there and high school French to ask politely where he could find transportation to the city.  He remembered Lex saying how much he loved the Marais district. Only a few boutique hotels dotted the neighborhood, and knowing Lex , he chose the most expensive one to start with. After grabbing a few euros from an ATM, he grabbed a taxi and within an hour he was standing in the Marias district trying to find the first hotel on his short list—L’hotel Duo.

He'd always loved Paris, and his brain weren't so exhausted he'd take in how beautiful the city was as it just began to wake. As a family they always stayed at a large hotel near the Eiffel Tower, but this neighborhood was quiet and small and mostly full of Parisians starting their day.

He turned onto Rue Du Temple and spotted L'hotel Duo at the end of the block. As he made his approach, the main doors of the hotel opened and Lex stepped out, completely oblivious to Clark standing just feet away. Lex crossed the street and walked into the café at the corner. Now what? Clark just stood there unsure of what to do. Suddenly faced with the reality of everything he was at a loss. He decided the best thing to do was go to the hotel and wait. At least then he didn't have to face Lex immediately.

* * *

 

If the staff at the hotel thought it strange a young American boy sat in their lobby, they didn't say anything. He loved how the French never asked any questions—he could have said he was waiting for his 40 yr old married lover and they wouldn't have batted an eye. About 20 minutes later, Lex walked through the door. He didn't see Clark, and proceeded straight to the elevator bay, but was stopped by the concierge who pointed in Clark's direction and mumbled something in French. Lex was about to wave him off until he looked in his direction. Clark wanted to laugh at the look on Lex's face, but he was too worried about the quick flash of anger that appeared, quickly followed by exasperation. It wasn't until he said the glint of happiness that Lex quickly tried to suppress that he felt confident enough to step forward.

" _What_ are you doing here, Clark?"

Clark looked momentarily stunned. What _was_ he doing there?

"I, um…"

Lex grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him towards the elevator, praying it came quickly before he exploded at Clark right in the lobby.

His mind was racing. Of all the scenarios he imagined, this definitely was not among them. He never thought he'd walk into his hotel in Paris and find Clark standing in the lobby. The ride to the penthouse level was excruciating, with him trying to calm the thousand questions spinning in his head and Clark fidgeting next to him turning redder by the moment.

He walked briskly to his hotel door, with Clark following solemnly behind him. He hadn't said a word since his small attempt in the lobby, and Lex could feel the tension coming off him in waves. He shut the door and looked at Clark, who drifted towards the windows. Clark could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and the sight seemed to seal his resolve—he'd come all this way, so there was no point in chickening out now.

"It really is beautiful here…"

"I'm glad you like the view. Now do you mind telling me what you think you're doing? Do you parents know you're here?"

Clark shook his head. "I guess I didn't think this through, but I wanted to see you before school started…and this really seemed like a good idea 14 hrs ago."

"And now?"

Clark sighed and sat on the window seat. "Now…I don't know, but I'm tired of over-thinking everything. I've been driving myself crazy since you left, wondering about…everything. I guess I just need to know."

This was dangerous, very, very dangerous. Lex wasn't in a good place right now. He'd been fantasizing about Clark for days; bringing home every boy in Paris that resembled him—which is why he thought the concierge pointed Clark out in the lobby; he probably thought he'd make the perfect conquest. Now Clark sat in front of him, flushed and beautiful, with that earnest frown on his face that always made his lips pout slightly. And his father was there, toying with him, bringing out his rebellious side. For once he'd like life to hand him a break. Maybe it just had.

"Need to know what, Clark?"

He just needed to just say it. " I'm…I'm attracted you. I think. I mean I am, I must be. I keep thinking about you all the time, and nothing has worked. I mean I tried. I tried to have a girlfriend, and it didn't work; it just made everything more confusing."

"Clark, slow down..."

He'd gotten up, and moved towards Lex, everything was coming out in a rush.

"No, Lex…I mean, I know you're attracted to me too. I mean we kind of made out in the loft, and ever since then, nothing makes any sense. I know you think its wrong, because you're my teacher—but…it doesn't feel wrong. Every thing else does."

Lex ran his hand over his head. For once he wished he had hair to yank in frustration. If Clark weren't his 16 yr old student, his flying across the ocean and declaring how he felt would be such an incredibly romantic gesture that he would have immediately thrown him down on the bed. But that was the last thing either of them needed right now.

He walked over and gently put his hands on Clark's shoulders. "Sit."

Clark obeyed, feeling a little dejected. "If it makes you feel better I'm not a…I mean I already…."

Lex sighed. "It doesn't make me feel better that you can't even say it."

"Look, you must be starving. I'll let you deal with your parents, but for now, just calm down, and I'll order room service. Then you'll take a shower, relax and then we'll see how you feel. Ok?"

Clark just nodded; nothing at all was going like he planned.

* * *

 

They ended up at a café a few blocks from the hotel. Clark looked like he'd come out of his skin if he stayed inside another moment, so Lex thought maybe a walk would do them both good. On the way, Lex pointed out a few important buildings and shops, giving Clark an impromptu history lesson in Parisian architecture. Clark listened politely, though he wasn't learning anything new. He'd been there a few times since his childhood, and with both his parents always trying to extract an education out of everything they did, he learned a lot about Paris and its beautiful facades. But the chatter served a purpose and he wasn't about to interrupt it.

Now they sat upstairs in the cafe near large windows overlooking the square below. Clark was finishing up his Steak Au Poivre and his second glass of wine. Lex didn't blink when he asked for it, and ordered one for himself. Maybe the wine acted like a placebo, because Clark felt more relaxed now than he had earlier even though alcohol had no affect on him. He was happy to see Lex again; he'd missed him. Now that some of the pretense was gone, they'd fallen back into their easy conversations. Lex regaled him with stories about a summer he'd spent there when he was sixteen. It made Clark feel a little better about his own recent rebellious streak. It also made him wish he'd known Lex at that age. Maybe if he could melt the years between them, everything would be perfect. He smiled brightly as Lex finished his story, and Lex returned his smile, in that slightly crooked way of his, and it almost felt like the last couple weeks never happened.

 

* * *

 

Neither one of them spoke of the odd way Clark turned up in Paris, or the even odder conversation they had in the hotel room. They just wandered all over the city together; going to a few of the smaller museums Lex preferred. He watched Clark wander through the garden of sculptures at the Rodin museum and knew he'd imagined this scene many times during his few days in Paris. He was indulging his own fantasy and right now he didn't care. He never imagined any of this could happen, he wasn't passing up the opportunity to enjoy the most innocent part of it.

They watched the sun slip down behind Notre Dame, and then headed back to the hotel. Clark stopped in the lobby, letting the weight of reality settle in his brow. He reached in his backpack, walking awkwardly towards the front desk.

Lex watched him, puzzled. "Clark, what are you doing?"

He turned around, avoiding his eyes. "Praying a room in this place won't empty the rest of my bank account…"

"You're staying with me, don't be ridiculous."

Clark tried not to look as relieved as he felt. "You sure? I mean its not like you were expecting me. I didn't want to assume…"

Lex shook his head. "Get in the elevator."

* * *

 

Lex told Clark he could shower first, a decision he immediately regretted when Clark emerged from the bathroom, skin glistening with water, wearing only a towel. Lex watched as Clark dug around in his overnight bag for something to put on. It was maddening how oblivious he could be sometimes. Lex got up abruptly and headed for the bathroom, shutting the door a little loudly behind him.

Clark slipped on a pair of boxers and climbed in the bed. It occurred to him that he probably should sleep in more than boxers since he wasn't at home, but Lex walked out of the bathroom the moment he considered getting up and he wasn't sure if walking around in just his boxers was worse.

Lex took in Clark lounging in the only bed in the room, flipping on the TV. Again he wondered when life would get easier.

"I guess I'll take the couch."

Clark shrugged. "The bed's huge, we can probably share it."

"Clark…"

Clark smiled at him. "I promise I won't try anything."

Lex grabbed one of the pillows and hit him with it, and Clark erupted into a rare giggle.

They settled in, watching ' _Independence Day'_ dubbed in French. Lex was just about to ask if he thought Wil Smith's voice double sounded like a weird poodle when he noticed Clark had gone quiet. He looked over to see if he'd fallen asleep and was met with the most intense look he'd ever seen in those green/blue eyes. Clark's expression was unreadable—somewhere between gentle and earnest. His eyes widened for a moment as he carefully reached his hand towards Lex's patch of exposed skin.

Clark frowned a little, never taking his eyes off him. "Lex…?"

There was no real plan, he wasn’t even sure what led to that moment, but he’d started now and he didn’t intend to turn back. What he felt terrified him as much as it excited him and he needed to know if any of it was real.

Lex knew it was wrong, terribly wrong, but all the warnings screaming in his head were ignored. He'd played out this scene too many times in his dreams; reenacted it too many times with nameless boys. The minute Clark looked at him with those lidded eyes, dark with what he hoped was lust—the warnings never stood a chance.

He grabbed his hand, and pulled Clark towards him, roughly taking his mouth in his. All his resolve was gone. His body took over his brain as he let Clark push his nightshirt off his shoulders clumsily. Lex slipped his hand beneath the waist of Clark’s boxers, and Clark moaned loudly. His skin was covered in sheen of sweat and felt almost hot to the touch.

Clark took deep breaths, trying his best to keep his mind present enough not to set Lex on fire, but it was difficult. The pleasure overwhelmed him, almost as much as, the fear, but he kept going; encouraging Lex with hands that grew more confident with every touch. He wasn’t sure when his boxers were removed, but soon Lex had the entire length of him in his mouth and he knew whatever he thought he'd experienced with Natalie, was nothing compared to this. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to will the threatening heat, away.

He forced himself to give in to everything he was feeling; to just relax, and soon the heat behind his lids slowly receded, and he was crying out, exploding down Lex’s throat.  Lex continued sucking him gently, coaxing the rest of his orgasm out of him. Clark could feel the heat building again, but unlike before the momentum was stronger. He began squirming, trying to pull away from the intense pleasure, but Lex continued thinking he was simply overcome.  The burning behind his eyes intensified and he realized in a panic he couldn’t contain it. He threw his arm across his eyes, gasping as a small burst of heat singed him. Clark pulled away from Lex quickly, mumbling a panicked “No!..” and scrambled off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom.  

He stood in the shower praying that it stopped as he turned the cold water on full blast and stood under the spray.  There was actual steam rising around him as the cold water hit his overheated skin. It took all he had not to dissolve into heavy sobs and run out the window into the streets of Paris. Maybe he was fast enough to run across water. He took a deep breath trying hard to calm down, but in the next moment he felt the heat settle behind his eyes again, too quick for him to react.  He heard the air sizzle around him, and a small cracking sound.

The pounding his chest quickened as he slowly opened his eyes to see a long black scorch against the pristine white subway tiles. He sank down to the floor of the shower and dropped his head on his knees, whispering the only expletive appropriate in this impossible situation.  _How would he explain that?_ He drew his knees in tighter, praying his heart stopped trying to fight its way out of his chest. But the pounding he felt wasn’t the one in his chest, but fists against the door, with a pleading, panicked voice on the other side. He should have answered Lex; reassured him somehow that none of it was his fault, but he had no energy to speak and remained where he was.

Lex tried the door handle; it wasn’t locked. “Clark…I’m coming in, OK?”

Clark didn’t answer; just kept his head down as he listened to Lex’s unsure footsteps enter the bathroom.

The moment when all your fears are realized is never a great one. You think you’ll react fine, assess the situation with a clear head and just get on with it. But reality is quite different. 

Lex stood in the middle of the bathroom, staring into the glass shower at his friend—his 16 yr old friend and student—who sat huddled, wet and naked on the tile floor, visibly shaken.  His first thought was even Lionel wasn’t capable of this.

“Clark?  I…are you…?” _Shit!_

He noticed the long black streak on the shower wall, and the slightly cracked tile beneath it that definitely wasn’t there that morning.

“Clark…what happened? Did you…”

That brought Clark’s head up quickly, and the look in his eyes made Lex want shrink into the floor. They held pure pain and desperation and he’d been the one to put it there. 

Clark shook his head adamantly, somehow guessing what Lex must be thinking. “No, Lex, its not you…Its not…I can’t Lex, I’m sorry I just can’t…”

Clark thought he might be crying now—he honestly couldn’t tell. He hoped he not because that would be even more mortifying.

Lex said nothing, just opened the shower door and reached over and turned off the water. He grabbed a towel and then the very fluffy robe hanging by the door and held them both out to Clark.

“Come on, just get out of there….”

Clark nodded and rose, not caring that he faced Lex completely naked, and stepped out of the shower.  He took the towel and flung it across his head and slipped the robe onto his shoulders.  Lex put a tentative hand on him, surprised when Clark didn’t shy away from his touch and led him out of the bathroom. Lex glanced back at the shower, looking at the black charred tiles wondering what on earth just happened.

 

 

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

Lex sat in a chair watching Clark’s fitful sleep.  He’d finally gotten Clark to calm down enough to lie in bed and within minutes he’d fallen asleep.  No answers were offered for the incident in the shower, and one look at Clark’s face kept him from pushing the issue. So much happened in a short span of time and Lex’s head spun with too many thoughts. For one he had just sucked off his student; his friend and more importantly his 16 yr old friend.  It was done.  The ease with which it happened terrified him, because what next?  Would morning come and he’d find a willing Clark splayed beneath him with his cock up his ass? Lex shook his head, trying to clear the panic that was setting in. 

Then there was the long jagged crack in the shower with the scorch mark across it—the air still smelled faintly of smoke, with no fire to speak of. Only a frightened boy sitting in the middle of the shower floor looking more shattered than the tiles. Clark actually trembled when he hastily put his boxers on, neglecting any other clothes while he walked agitatedly around the room, wet hair dripping water that ran in long ripples down his back. Eventually he yanked Clark onto the bed and began to towel dry his hair roughly. He’d been too upset with himself to hold his frustration in check. As he yanked Clark’s hair, he was sure he must have hurt him, but Clark didn’t even flinch, just sat there trying to calm his breathing, while Lex took out his frustrations in the simple act of drying his hair.

After a few minutes of trying to rip Clark’s hair from his skull, Clark mumbled “sorry” as he always did, shaking his head slightly, realizing how ridiculous he must look. He looked up suddenly, staring at Lex for a long moment, a question in his eyes, like there was something he needed to say, but then returned to staring at the floor, until Lex gently, finally, laid him down on the pillow and told him to sleep.

Now he watched the rise and fall of Clark’s smooth chest knowing if he dared climb into bed, Clark wouldn’t wake up a virgin.

 

* * *

 

_Hi Mom, Hi Dad, I guess you're wondering why the background is a little different this time. Could I convince you that Excelsior has taken on a new Parisian theme? I didn't think so. So, behind me is the…I think that's the Louis XVI bridge, but its kind of dark—X-ray vision isn't really that helpful at night. So…yea, I'm in Paris. I know you're probably freaking out. I'm freaking out—this is probably the craziest thing I've ever done right? I honestly don't do too many crazy things, not intentionally anyway. I know that money is for something really important—but 24 hrs ago this was really important. I wish I could explain but…I've been hiding so much from you, its just made me feel completely alone. I hate it. But how can I tell you the truth? I've been so scared for months, and so tired, confused and I don't feel like myself at all, or maybe I don't know who I am anymore. The truth is, I came here because of Lex. I think—or I thought I…, well not love, but I care about him very much, and I was really attracted to him and nothing made sense, so I thought if I came here, away from everything—from home, from school, that I could get some answers. Things didn't go as I planned, or maybe it is what I planned, but I nothing ended up the way I thought... God…I've kept so much from you! First Natalie….you guys would be so disappointed. You've always taught me that being intimate with someone was special, that it meant so much and shouldn't be taken lightly and now I know you were right, and I'm sorry I ever got involved with her. No one told me that once you start, its….its hard to stop. I know I'm saying things without saying them, but I'm sort of in shock right now. It wasn't what I thought and I can't believe I didn't learn my lesson with Natalie, I just thought this would feel right, but now I feel like I've ruined everything and there's no way back from this. I feel more alone than ever….I just….._

Clark put the camera down and wiped furiously at his eyes. He wasn't even sure when the tears started. It all came pouring out of him in an emotional rush, everything he'd been thinking and holding in, everything he'd been feeling. But he didn't feel better. He felt this crushing weight around him-this emptiness and it scared him. He didn't know what to do with it. He shut the camera off, knowing he never had any intention of sending it. He just needed to say it. For the first time in his life there was nowhere to turn for comfort or a reassuring hand. For the first time, he feared he had no one.

He wandered around the city for hours, with only the sound of his own footsteps to keep him company. By the time he found himself on the same block as the hotel the sky had begun to brighten. He glanced across the street hoping the faint smell of warm bread meant the café was open this early, but its front windows were black. He pushed down the instinct to run and walked towards the hotel.

The room was empty when he entered, and for a moment he felt relief until he heard the shower turn on. Hoping Lex took a long time in the bathroom, he climbed onto the window seat, stretching his long limbs out on the expansive sill, and let the implications of everything finally sink in.

He thought sex with Natalie prepared him for sex with Lex; which he now knew was a completely ridiculous notion. It couldn't have been more different. The intensity of the pleasure was such a shock that he’d lost control—then went into a complete panic. He barely remembered running into the bathroom at all. Then only fear overwhelmed him and he didn’t know which the greater fear was—hurting Lex or Lex discovering what he was. He wished he could say hurting Lex was the dominant fear, but he knew the way he panicked and ultimately shut down when faced with the cracked tiles he couldn’t hide—that revealing his secret won out. Part of him cursed his parents for drilling into him from such an early age how detrimental someone discovering his true nature would be. He understood their concerns, especially when he was too young to fully understand the danger. But what it created was this blind panic that immediately clouded his judgment when faced with anyone finding out the truth about him. 

Lex emerged from the shower a few minutes later, wearing a robe that he closed as soon as he noticed Clark sitting in the window. He stopped and held his gaze for a moment before walking to the closet to retrieve his clothes.

"I was about to send out a search party. Where'd you go all night?"

Lex discarded his robe, though the closet door kept him partially obscured from Clark's view.

"I'm sorry if I made you worry, I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk."

Lex emerged from the closet wearing simple black pants and a deep crimson shirt. He left it unbuttoned and walked over to Clark.

Clark visibly stiffened as he approached, but Lex ignored it. He decided when he woke that morning that the worse thing he could do was to indulge Clark's anxiety and embarrassment. He wished last night had never happened, but the fact was it had, and he knew Clark's immediate temptation would be to act like nothing had. A tactic Lex was more than willing to go along with, but he knew if he pretended something as huge as this was nothing, it would hurt Clark more, whether Clark realized it or not.

So he leaned in and gave Clark a light kiss on the lips, which he returned.

"That was a long walk, but I imagine you had a lot to think about."

Clark stared out the window and nodded.

Lex sat down on the bed across him. “So..do you want to talk about the ruined tile in the shower?”

Lex watched the color drain from Clark’s face, as he tried and failed to make words form. He squirmed a bit, looking Lex in the eye, then quickly returning his gaze to the window.

Lex just nodded, but didn’t push the issue. “Its fine Clark…I’m not worried about it—not as much as you seem to be…”

Clark remained silent, and Lex got up from the bed to finish dressing.

He stopped in the middle of the room, realizing he was approaching this completely wrong. He sighed and sat in the chair across from Clark.

“Listen…last night shouldn't have happened, and I'm sure you're feeling that way right now."

Clark shook his head, finding his voice suddenly "I don't know what I'm feeling…"

"I didn't think I could trust myself around you, and I was right. Something as important as this never should have happened the way it did, and I'm sorry I let it get to that point. But I can promise you, it won't happen again."

Clark didn't know what he expected Lex to say, but he couldn't let him bare all the responsibility.

"I'm the one that initiated it Lex, if its anyone's fault its mine."

Lex shook his head, Clark was nothing if not consistent, if there was blame to go around, he'd shoulder it.

"You're a kid Clark…."

Clark got up from the sill, moving slightly too fast before he caught himself. He was agitated now. After everything, if Lex was going back to this whole stance of him being too young to understand, he didn't know if he could take it.

"You didn't think of me as a kid last night, so stop saying that! And I'm not trying to say it was right, or that I'm ok with it, but I don't need you to take the blame and tell me I'm some dumb kid that didn't know any better!" He was yelling now; the anger seemed to come out of nowhere.

Lex got up, sighing, thinking that Clark was just proving his point.

"Clark, you need to calm down Ok. Shouting first thing in the morning in a hotel isn't a good idea, even in Paris."

Clark took a deep breath, mumbling, "sorry," and sat heavily in on the bed, looking slightly defeated.

Lex wanted to grab a mirror and hold it up to Clark and show him his flushed cheeks and petulant mouth and ask him why he shouldn't call him a kid. But instead he walked over and picked up Clark cell phone sitting on the night stand and tossed it to him.

"Your parents called twice while you were out. I'm going to go out on a limb and say they don't know you're here. Why don't you call them back, let them know you're Ok."

Clark wanted to punch Lex. He knew exactly what point he was trying to make— adults don't need to check in with their parents; adults don't sneak off to Paris.

Lex saw the look Clark was leveling at him and realized things had gone far off course.

"Look, Clark, I'm sorry, I was trying to reassure you and instead I'm belittling you, and I don't want to do that. What happened last night scared me, mainly because I let it happen so easily. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it—of course I did, but I'm not sure you did, and that's what I'm really sorry about."

"I did…part of it. It just wasn't…it was more…it wasn't what I expected." Clark ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. 

There was no point in continuing the conversation, and Lex could tell he didn't want to talk about it, so he decided not to push it any more.

Lex switched to being all business again. "I booked a flight for you this afternoon, back to Kansas. I arranged for a car to meet you at the airport to take you to school. I'll be here for another week, and I'll decide what I'm going to do."

Clark looked up, slightly alarmed. "Do about what?"

"I just have a few decisions to make.

 The next few hours were perhaps the longest Clark had ever experienced. He didn't object to Lex arranging his flight, and went quietly with barely a goodbye. Neither of them spoke much the rest of their time together, and Clark stayed out of his way, wandering around the neighborhood until it was time to leave for the airport. If he admitted it; he was pretty angry at Lex—mainly for how badly he was handling all of it. He understood that he felt ashamed he'd given into obviously long pinned up desires, but to dismiss Clark with such finality felt mean and self-centered, and Clark found himself thinking a phrase he never imagined he'd think "what do you expect from a Luthor."

* * *

 

It felt stranger than he anticipated being back at an empty school. The holiday snowfall still blanketed the grounds giving eeriness to the quiet. Everything seemed covered in gloom. All he needed to do now was turn on some Radiohead and slump lifelessly across his bed and the angsty teenager image would be complete. He thought being away from everything that tempted him would bring him some peace. But now all he felt was incredibly lonely and really sick of himself.

 He promised to call his parents as soon as he arrived, but not trusting his voice, he sent them both a simple text explaining instead. His mother responded by telling him they were calling him tomorrow and he'd better answer his phone. She ended with a smiley face, but he knew she hadn't been smiling on the other end

What really bothered him the most was his stubbornness in Paris; maybe if he'd told Lex the truth, instead arguing, he could have made them both feel better about the entire situation. Though was it really that easy? He knew Lex suspected something—maybe he had all along, but people rarely react how they think they will in the moment. Clark shook his head, very tired all of a sudden. He stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed, trying and failing miserably, not to think of a bald guy in Paris.

* * *

 

Having a mostly empty campus did provide some freedom. Clark found that if he wandered just past the trees that lined the property he could safely run at top speed without worrying about being seen. It felt good to use his abilities again. He always felt more like himself when he did; in every other moment he held back—like he was constantly holding his breath. While he ran, nothing mattered; not Lex, his parents, his friends; nothing—there was only the constant wind against his skin as the earth blurred around him.

He stopped on the outskirts of the campus by a small lake, mostly frozen now—the only indication to Clark how cold it must be outside. He'd remembered to put his wool coat on, but hadn't bothered to button it, and it billowed behind him as the cold air blew fiercely through the trees. He often wondered what different temperatures felt like. He knew as a small child he felt cold or hot at times, but now it was a faint memory. Cold reminded him of something…dry, and heat felt wetter somehow, but that's all he could manage. His mother tried to explain it to him once when he was 10, during the throes of a record-breaking heat wave that summer in Smallville. He kept trying to understand what his friends, who only wanted to swim in Crater Lake those days, were feeling.

Life was so simple when his biggest problem was trying to explain why he didn't sweat buckets outside like everyone else. He smirked grimly. The conversation he had with his mother earlier was a lot more complicated.

She called first thing that morning, explaining the only reason his father wasn't on the line was because he didn't trust himself to do anything other than yell at him right now. Clark felt his stomach drop at that—it was rare his father was so angry with him that he couldn't even speak to him. It'd only happened once before. So his mother—with her voice terser than he'd ever remembered, told him how incredibly disappointing and irresponsible his actions were. All access to his accounts was restricted since he obviously couldn't be trusted.

 He didn't mind, he rarely spent his money anyway, and he really couldn't argue with her. His actions were irresponsible, but in that moment, sitting in his car, booking the tickets, nothing else seemed to matter. The notion that was the behavior of a love-sick idiot kept creeping into his thoughts. In the end he apologized profusely and told yet another lie about his reasons for going—saying Braden called and said he’d be in Paris for a few days before school started and he should come—and he thought they would tell him no. He wanted to keep Lex out of it as long as he could. Despite them being well-off business owners, he had no doubt his father would show up at Excelsior with his largest shotgun if he knew the truth.

Clark absently burned neat little holes in the ice with his heat-vision, until he got bored. He watched the ice crack and spread as the surface warmed with each new blast, then shoved his hands in his coat pocket and took off back towards the dorms at a very slow pace.

When he entered his dorm room there was a new suitcase by Braden's bed and a note on his pillow. There didn't seem to be any other sign of Braden. He shrugged his coat off, and picked up the letter.

_Hey Kent,_

_Was hoping you'd be here when I dropped my stuff off. Your parents actually called me to see if you were with me in Paris yesterday. I being the king of deceit totally covered for you. What the hell were you doing in Paris? Is the boyscout not such a boyscout after all? I knew it! I'll be back to tomorrow._

Clark dropped the letter in the wastebasket. Wow…so his mother doubted his story. None of this was going to end well.


End file.
